
By William Ollayos –
The art of drag extends throughout history, with gender-bending performances appearing in ancient Greece and several Native American cultures. Drag played a significant role in Shakespearean theatre, vaudeville of the early 20th century, the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s, and continues to evolve among queer communities in the contemporary United States. As documented in the Stonewall Riots of 1969, the art of drag was and is a critical tool for the LGBTQ+ (also known as “queer”) rights movement. The First Amendment to the United States Constitution explicitly protects this freedom of speech, including spoken words, symbolism, and otherwise expressive comportment.
In March 2023, Governor Bill Lee of Tennessee signed into law the Adult Entertainment Act (AEA), which banned “cabaret” performances across the state. Commonly known as the Tennessee drag ban, the AEA specifically outlawed male or female impersonators that appeal “to a prurient interest.” A judge for the United States District Court for the Western District of Tennessee temporarily blocked the act’s implementation on the basis of First Amendment concerns. The temporary block became a permanent injunction in June 2023; Attorney General Jonathan Skrmetti filed a still-pending appeal. Given the role of drag performance as an essential aspect of the LGBTQ+ rights movement, what impact does the introduction of the AEA have on queer communities both locally and nationally?




How the AEA criminalizes queer community
While historians struggle to pinpoint the exact origin of drag, strong documentation exists regarding the role of gender-bending performances within the queer community throughout the 20th and 21st centuries. Writing for National Geographic (2023), Emily Martin discussed in “From Police Raids to Pop Culture” about drag featuring prominently in the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s. Modern drag queens can credit drag balls as the true origin of their art form. Critically, these competitions were pioneered by Black and Latine performers and held in secret to avoid police interference. Drag therefore always behaved as a tool of both performance and community-building; queer folks formed their own familial structures within the ballroom scene to avoid the threat of criminalization, suppression, or police violence. In the modern era, drag continues to operate across a spectrum of functionality, from serving as late-night entertainment to a direct expression of political speech. Looking next to the Stonewall Riots of 1969 and then to contemporary legislative challenges facing the queer community, the art of drag was and remains a significant tool as well as an essential resource for the LGBTQ+ rights movement.

The First Amendment to the United States Constitution states that Congress shall make no law “abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble.” The United States Supreme Court traditionally understood the First Amendment to protect symbolic speech, expressive conduct, and a right of expression of opinion. In March 2023, Governor Bill Lee of Tennessee signed into law the Adult Entertainment Act (AEA), which banned “cabaret” performances across the state. Commonly known as the Tennessee drag ban, the AEA specifically outlawed male or female impersonators that “would be found by the average person applying contemporary community standards to appeal predominantly to the prurient, shameful or morbid interests of minors.” Two noteworthy legal challenges to the AEA arose in Tennesee: Friends of Georges, Inc. v. Mulroy (from Jun 2023) and Blount Pride, Inc. v. Desmond (from September 2023). A judge for the United States District Court for the Western District of Tennessee temporarily blocked the act’s implementation on the basis of First Amendment concerns. The temporary block became a permanent injunction in June 2023; Attorney General Jonathan Skrmetti filed an appeal, with a decision from the Sixth Circuit still pending as of April 2024.

Researchers understand drag as a necessity of the queer community; this art form provides a means of expression, an avenue toward the safety of found family, and a political tool for resistance. In the last decade, drag faced a firestorm of controversy; formerly unremarkable events like a drag queen reading to children at a library now face intense politization and backlash. Jeremy Chen, writing for NBC Connecticut (2024), documented the cancellation of an Enfield library drag event due to social media threats. Given the essentiality of drag to queer populations throughout history, how does the AEA’s criminalization of drag in Tennessee condemn LGBTQ+ communities across the United States? Tennessee-based drag performer Aura Mayari (the stage name of Jay-R de Leon) rose to prominence in the wake of the AEA. Cassidy George profiled Mayari for Vogue in March of 2023. Mayari’s protest against Tennessee’s legislation underscores the potential long-term harm that drag bans could exact on the queer community. As noted by Jon Freeman for Rolling Stone (2023), Mayari’s activism rippled across the nation, instigating similar protests from drag queens in different states (including Connecticut). Such a noted rise of queer activism comes as proposed anti-LGBTQ+ legislation continually gains traction across the country.
Drag, community building, and found family
Lambda Legal defines a drag queen (or king) as “a performer who wears the clothing associated with another sex, often involving the presentation of exaggerated, stereotypical gender characteristics” which may constitute “art, entertainment and/or parody.” Drag queens, in particular, rose to international prominence alongside the popularity of RuPaul’s Drag Race, a mainstream television series depicting an art form whose subversive nature historically required immense secrecy. In fact, the heightened visibility of RuPaul’s Drag Race improved public opinion of drag queens (though arguably undermined this art form’s essential subversiveness). Problematically, an understanding of LGTBQ history is hindered by the lack of diaries and personal letters, which would avoid putting queer feelings in writing because being gay or bisexual was considered illegal for much of recorded history. Historians work to decipher these ambiguously coded queer feelings from such historical artifacts to foster a deeper understanding of queer community throughout time. The rise to prominence of RuPaul’s Drag Race has therefore assisted in fleshing out the record of queer history.

Despite drag’s uncertain origins, historians confirm that drag balls flourished in New York City at the height of the Harlem Renaissance which evolved into the Harlem ballroom community. Traditionally, ballroom communities served as a safe space for gender expression but were hazardous to attend given the prevalence of police raids and societal intolerance toward gender nonconformity. Scholar Corin Wardzich writes in Connections on the Ballroom Floor: Representations of Houses in the American Ball Culture in Popular Films and TV Shows (2002) that performers began to group themselves in houses styled as found families, a family model different from traditionally understood kinship. The 1990 documentary Paris is Burning as well as the 2018 – 2021 television series Pose prominently explore the familial dynamics between queer performers and attendants of these drag balls. In particular, both Paris is Burning and Pose portray the art form of drag performance as an essential vehicle for identifying and connecting with potential members of these “found families.” The population of performers and attendants at these drag balls predominately included gay men and transgender women of color seeking refuge from homelessness and police brutality. The construction of found families and general community building that occurred as part of the drag scene played an essential function within the queer community as, even in the 21st century, drag balls still continue around the world.



Tennessee’s Adult Entertainment Act
Governor Bill Lee signed the legislation of Tennessee’s Adult Entertainment Act, also known as Public Chapter No. 2 of the Tennessee Code, in March 2023. The act clearly states that “it is an offense for a person to perform adult cabaret entertainment” when on “public property” or in “a location where the adult cabaret entertainment could be viewed by a person who is not an adult.” The AEA defined “adult cabaret entertainment” as “adult-oriented performances that are harmful to minors” such as “topless dancers, go-go dancers, exotic dancers, strippers, male or female impersonators, or similar entertainers.” Furthermore, the AEA defined “obscene” performances as any which “the average person applying contemporary community standards would find that the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest” and further clarifies that “‘prurient interest’ means a shameful or morbid interest in sex.” The AEA became the first anti-drag bill enacted by a state legislature to be subsequently signed into law throughout the United States.

In Blount Pride, Inc., a case from the Eastern District of Tennessee, the organizers of an annual pride festival alleged that the potential enforcement of the AEA violated their First and Fourteenth Amendment rights. The judge issued an injunction, holding that the “plaintiffs demonstrated a strong likelihood of success on the merits of their claim that the AEA violated their First Amendment rights.” The judge found the law unconstitutional “because it conflicted with the First Amendment right to free speech.” However, Tennessee’s Attorney General Jonathan Skrmetti advised district attorneys across the state that the federal court decision only applied in the Memphis area. The Attorney General’s edict therefore encouraged other jurisdictions beyond the Memphis area to continue enforcing the AEA.

On March 27, 2023, the LGBTQ+ theatre troupe Friends of Georges challenged the AEA, and a federal judge for the United States District Court for the Western District of Tennessee blocked its implementation. The court held that the AEA was a “viewpoint-based restriction on speech” and that Friends of Georges was entitled to a permanent injunction prohibiting the county district attorney from enforcing AEA. A viewpoint-based restriction of speech describes a policy with the “impermissible purpose of chilling constitutionally-protected speech.” Attorney General Skrmetti appealed the ruling on June 30, 2023, hoping to reinstate the anti-drag law. The appellate court has not issued a verdict as of May 2024.
Drag performers respond
Moving beyond drag as a tool for community building and the construction of found family, this art form’s most salient purpose comes as a vehicle for political speech. Trans artist and scholar Graham Bell Tornado notes in Antitainment ‘70: Radical Drag, Performance and Politics (2021) that “drag queens have been at the forefront of the queer liberation movement since at least the 1960s” wherein they played “an active part in the Stonewall riots in New York in June 1969.” Tornado specifically looks beyond the “entertainment” value of drag; this scholar coined the term “antitainment” to describe “a queer seduction that subverts the nature of spectacle” in order to “entertain but also to provoke a reaction and awaken the social conscience of the public.” Tornado’s “antitainment” therefore describes the capacity of drag as an artform to educate and enlighten an audience. Tornado’s “antitainment” particularly appears in the drag community’s ongoing response to Tennessee’s AEA, including the work of Aura Mayari.

Mayari, the stage name of Tennessean Jay-R de Leon, told Vogue (2023) about feeling very “unsafe” after the AEA criminalized drag performance. After the initial passage of the AEA, Mayari appeared in full drag at Nashville’s Centennial Park, posing beneath the well-known Parthenon building. Mayari underscored that the language of the AEA contained an “intentionally broad” definition of drag. Mayari therefore expressed confusion over when and how a drag performer might be in violation of the law. Optimistically, Mayari stated that “drag is community oriented” and that ensuring the future of drag “in conservative states will mandate a powerful collective effort.” Tennessee’s AEA is part “of a larger wave of conservative attacks on drag performers across the nation” that includes armed members of various hate groups forcing “the cancellation of a drag dance at the Memphis Museum of Science and History in Tennessee” as well as the storming of drag story hour at “a public library in California.” These violent acts cite “right-wing claims that drag performers are sexualizing and grooming children” as their impetus. Mayari responded that, “‘These laws have nothing to do with protecting children. This is about attacking LGBTQ artists and making it more difficult for trans people to live their normal lives. It’s about spreading hate.’”
Criminalizing the queer community
In the face of continued drag bans and general anti-LGBTQ+ legislation, Mayari’s activism (or “antitainment” as termed by Tornado) operates as an essential tool for resistance. Mayari’s appearance at Nashville’s Centennial Park perfectly aligns with Tornado’s assessment of drag as a tool to awaken the social conscience of the public. The photographs of Mayari, combined with her widely-distributed interview with Vogue, drew national attention to the plight of drag performers across the United States. Mayari’s work therefore spotlit a necessary conversation about the right-wing scapegoating of LGBTQ+ communities across the country. Just as drag performers led the initial charge during the Stonewall Riots of 1969, Mayari’s contemporary activism has modernized drag’s history of serving at the forefront of the LGBTQ+ rights movement. Drag therefore continues to serve a variety of uses for the strength, protection, and betterment of queer populations across the United States.

Beyond drag’s essentially as a tool for resistance, the AEA’s banning of “male or female impersonators” directly complicates the construction of queer families. While the AEA claims to protect children, the erasure of drag-friendly spaces ultimately eradicates the system that many queer individuals utilize to build supportive and safe family units. From the era of ballroom to the modern landscape of Tennessee, communities founded around drag performance provide a safe space for gender expression and a method to connect with like-minded individuals. Even in the 21st century, queer folks (particularly drag performers) group themselves in found-family-style “houses” built on mentorship and mutual protection. The AEA’s attempt to ban drag performances would therefore erase this foundation of queer community-building, ultimately endangering an already at-risk population. Queer youth, particularly non-white and non-cisgender children, experience a uniquely high rate of homelessness. The drag scene provides one avenue for these young folks to find safety, grouping themselves into houses (both literally as a means of shelter and figuratively in terms of emotional bonds) to escape homelessness. The abolition of drag-friendly spaces that promote these kinship formations could have disastrous effects upon the queer community.

Furthermore, scholars and activists condemn the ambiguous language and inequitable enforcement of the AEA, including the legislation’s obscure calls to protect children from an overly broad, intangible threat. Ambiguities arise throughout a number of the bill’s most salient tenants; for example, while the bill clearly outlaws performances that appeal to a “prurient interest,” the concept of “performance” itself remains unclear. Drag performers like Aura Mayari are left to question the legality of her simple appearance on public property, if driving herself to a club while wearing her drag is an arrestable offense, or if the bill only criminalizes the act of standing on stage while wearing women’s clothing. Paradoxically, Mayari cannot even ascertain if her appearance in drag at Nashville’s Centennial Park violates the AEA.
Though the “obscene” performances outlawed by the AEA remain difficult to pinpoint, the bill nevertheless warns of their potential harm to “minors.” As Mayari stated in her interview with Vogue, protecting children from a nonspecific threat remains the primary motivation of this legislation as well as for the base of voters inspired by this bill. As illustrated by the armed militia interrupting drag queen events at libraries and museums, the growing violence perpetuated by primarily right-wing voters (driven by their desire to protect children from this unclear danger) evolved into a genuine threat to the safety of drag performers.

The controversy over drag in relation to children raises the essential question of drag performances’ suitability for underage viewers. As Tornado underscores the subversive nature of spectacle often on display in drag performances, a reasonable spectator might disagree with the presence of children at the more salacious performances. However, the AEA’s focus on protecting children from such obscenities has not materialized in actual practice. The AEA specifically restricts “topless dancers” and “exotic dancers” of all genders. Nevertheless, the local Tennessee news only contains examples of police enforcing this bill at historically queer bars. Little evidence exists of police enforcement of the AEA against cisgender, female dancers performing for cisgender, male audiences. In other words, no documentation exists of the AEA protecting children from cisgender, female dancers performing for cisgender, male audiences. Despite the intentionally vague and all-encompassing language of the bill, the homophobia and anti-queer sentiment inherent to the AEA has still manifested in its enforcement across the state.
From Tennessee to Connecticut
Tennessee’s enactment of the AEA and Mayari’s subsequent protests ignited a firestorm of controversy across the country, with similar protests and, regrettably, similar drag bans gaining traction. Many of the drag performers in Connecticut, a state largely regarded as a liberal haven for LGBTQ+ folks, worried about the future of drag, as this art form defines their family, creativity, and livelihood.

In an effort to better understand the widespread effects of the AEA, this writer asked four Connecticut-based drag queens the following three questions:
- Have you heard about the proposed drag bans in some states, particularly in Tennessee?
- How has the news about potential drag bans in states like Tennessee affected you and your work? Your friends and community?
- How do you define family, and does that definition have anything to do with your artistry as a drag performer?
The four drag queens – Kiki Lucia, Ambrosia Black, Midnight, and Astra – each expressed remorse over the AEA and identified a growing concern about shifting public opinions toward LGBTQ+ folks in Connecticut.
Kiki Lucia, who began performing across New England in 2014, described her concerns over the AEA’s criminalization of queer art, stating that “the intent of these laws is to legally write LGBTQ+ individuals out of existence.” Interestingly, Lucia cited broader implications of the AEA, adding that “there are real world repercussions for straight people as well. The language is purposely vague, opening up all kinds of businesses and arts organizations to be subject to legal action.” Lucia’s sentiment echoes Mayari’s concerns over the ambiguity of the legislative language; the breadth of uncertainty in the bill sets a “dangerous precedent” that “violates civil rights, is anti-business in nature, and has the potential to violate the constitutional right of free speech.” Lucia’s opinion echoes the stance of the judge from the Eastern District of Tennessee, who issued an injunction of the AEA on first amendment grounds. Similarly to Tornado’s description of “antitainment,” Lucia also highlighted how drag performers can and should increase public attention on these issues.

Midnight started drag in 2021 and identifies as Lucia’s “drag daughter.” Midnight shared that, for her, family “is not necessarily the one you are born into. Family is the people and friends who are there to support and love you unconditionally.” Similarly to Wardzich’s description of kinship formation within ball communities, Midnight stated that “being a performer and part of the queer community has given me a chance to feel like I have a real family.” Lucia agreed, adding that, “My chosen family, which is made up of so many different kinds of people – my drag family, my gay boys, my favorite straights, and more, all make up my family in different ways.” Lucia and Midnight therefore represent a drag house as described by Wardzich, an essential space of safety and support for nonwhite and gender nonconforming folks to avoid the hostility of the outside world.

Black underscored the unique nature of queer kinship formation: “Due to the nature of the queer experience, families have become elective. If my family chooses not to include me, I will choose to include who I want as my family.” Black therefore further underscored the atypical, familial structure of drag houses highlighted by historians, even adding that her family “really harkens back to ballroom culture during the height of the AIDS epidemic more or less. These elective families are the backbone of queer survival.” Black and Astra, who also serve as regular drag performers across Connecticut and spoke with this writer about the AEA, confirmed Lucia’s concerns about their safety: “We would all love to live in a bubble where these things are happening in ‘awful red states’ – but they are happening here too. A Connecticut legislature member floated bringing such laws to Connecticut several sessions ago.” In fact, Black noted that “every single person who does drag has heard about this legislation and almost every single trans person has heard about it as well.” Interestingly, Black echoed Mayari’s sentiment about the ambiguous language of the AEA creating an unknowable, looming threat over the drag community. Black emphasized the lack of clarity around the performance aspect of the AEA, as her “best friend was performing in Tennessee and wasn’t sure whether she was allowed to take an Uber to the venue while in makeup or drag. She was worried she could be arrested.” Black’s concern stresses the authoritarian nature of the AEA, as the bill is simultaneously all-encompassing yet sporadically enforced.

Although the AEA originated in a state geographically distant to Connecticut, Lucia, Midnight, Black, and Astra all illustrated how the legislation directly affected their day-to-day existences. While the AEA continues to complicate the lives of drag performers in Tennessee, the impact of such legislation upon drag as a tool for community building, protest, and family formation absolutely rippled over Connecticut.

Moving forward
A recent, highly-publicized exposé in Rolling Stone (2024) accused Darius Pierce (an alumna of RuPaul’s Drag Race who is well-known under the stage name “Shangela”) of sexually assaulting at least five men. Each source who contributed to the exposé identified as queer and specified that they either participated in or regularly attended drag shows. Many of the victims cited “anti-drag and anti-trans laws across conservative states in the U.S.” as a direct reason for not coming forward with their assault allegations. This delay in reporting ultimately allowed Pierce’s criminal behavior to continue unnoticed for many years, a clearly documented instance of harm befalling the queer community as a result of anti-LGBTQ+ legislation. Future inquiries into the AEA and similar legislation should document how the introduction of such bills yielded specific harm to queer populations both locally and nationally.
The fight for LGBTQ+ rights continues across the United States. In April 2024, the reality television series on HBO entitled We’re Here (which features drag queens visiting small towns to enlist residents for a one-night-only drag show) selected its next filming location: Murfreesboro, Tennessee. The trailer provides a close look at the lives of queer folks in this controversial state, including their daily harassment at the hands of political extremists and religious zealots. Selecting Tennessee as the show’s next filming location presents an opportunity for drag performers to continue what Tornado described: awakening the public’s social conscience through spectacle, arguably the most prescient role of drag artistry in the contemporary age.

Leave a Reply