OPINION EDITORIAL

Let There Be (She)

Matt Bays

Writer/Musician/Former Minister

I was a minister in conservative churches for 27 years. I spent most of that time as a closeted gay man. When I came out at the age of 46, drag culture is one of the things that showed me it was okay to live my life as my authentic self. It holds a special place in my heart.

So, when drag queens recently came under fire, it broke my heart. And then it enraged me.

The churches I had worked in and attended fully condemned the LGBTQ+ community. While I had always been more progressive in my faith experience, verbalizing some of what I believed about the LGBTQ+ community—that they were loved by God, and that they didn’t need to play it straight—I never fought back against the voices of condemnation.

But why? Here’s the truth, which is not only humbling, but troubling to admit.

I was afraid of losing my job. I had a family to support; bills to pay. I’m not proud of it, but I was careful not to rock the boat. I detested their negativity toward the people I loved (and would one day join), but held my cards close to my chest. It is a regret I’ve needed to make peace with—an amend I’ve owed to drag queens, the LGBTQ+ community, and to myself.

As conservative news media and political groups began focusing their agenda on drag queens and drag culture, I couldn’t stop thinking about all those days when I had kept my mouth shut. When I hadn’t stood up for what I believed.

Now is the time.

Our drag queens have been falsely accused in news media, of being pedophiles and freaks. Of sexualizing and grooming children. They’ve become a lightning rod for conservative political unrest and bigotry. Their rights as performers AND AS HUMAN BEINGS have been threatened.

What can I do? How can I help? These were the questions that were keeping me up at night.

Love often requires that we walk in someone else’s shoes…or in this case, their heels.

As a cis-gender gay man, I am aware of the privilege I hold within the LGBTQ+ community, and I’m guessing it’s the same for you. If that’s true—if we have a leg up in this life—we cannot rest until all who are represented within those beautiful LGBTQ+ letters are able to live with the same rights and same level of freedom as us.

When we see something, we must say something.

I saw my sisters being attacked. It was time to speak up. To speak out. To take a stand.

Time to go big or go home.

GET UNCOMFORTABLE

“What we don’t understand, we fear. What we fear, we judge as evil. What we judge as evil, we attempt to control. And what we cannot control…we attack.” -Author unknown

The first drag show I ever attended was in Louisville, Kentucky. The queens were larger than life. Some were loud. Some were the most beautiful women I had ever seen. It was a spectacle that, at the time, I just couldn’t grasp or appreciate. Standing among the lip-synching and lashes, the wigs, death drops, roaring beat, rhinestones, and realness, I found myself uncomfortable. I did not understand this form of entertainment.

Intuitively though, I knew they were only celebrating life. And deep down inside, I was captivated by their ability to let themselves BE themselves…especially when, for so many years, this was my greatest weakness.

So, when I saw them being publicly attacked this last year, I knew I needed to get involved.

I’m a writer and musician. I am NOT a drag queen. But I had an idea. It was an idea so big I wasn’t sure I could pull it off, but I desperately wanted to be part of the solution.

I went to work on my idea.

First, I wrote a song. The lyrics were the words of a drag queen. “Did you stop to think who made me this way? Not you, honey. Not you.” Then, with the help of a friend, I recorded the song. After that, I reached out to a local drag queen, Blair St. Clair. I told her I had an idea for a music video where I—a former conservative church going minister—would perform in drag, and asked if she would be interested in being part of it.

“Tell me more,” she said.

And so, I told her my plan. I told her why. I told her everything.

She said, “I’m in. Where and when? I’m there.”

I didn’t know a thing about getting into drag. I bought things I’d never bought before. A long black gown, fake nails, jewelry as sparkly as I could find, a padded ass, strapless bra, platform heels, and tucking panties.

And Blair showed up for me.

At the video shoot, she taught me how to walk in heels. She showed me how to move. She assured that I was doing a good job. By listening, I was learning. By watching, I was gaining new insight into her world. Most importantly, I was finding a much deeper love for a group of people I didn’t understand.

I began to realize that our drag queens are not simply playing dress up. They are intricately created beings with intensity, passion, empathy, and love. When I needed Blair, she came through for me. I was doing what I could to come through for her too.

I realize that I went big. But it doesn’t have to be that hard.

How can WE come through?

SEEK ALLYSHIP

This is what love looks like: Show up, even when you don’t know how. Expand your view by educating yourself on what drag culture is and on the lives of the performers themselves. And if this is difficult for you, know that it’s supposed to be.

We make ourselves uncomfortable because this is what true allyship looks like.

When I put on that dress, when I put on the wig, makeup, and platform heels, initially, I didn’t feel energized. I felt awkward and uncomfortable. Because I didn’t know what I was doing. But guess what? Turns out, being uncomfortable is one hundred percent survivable.

Personally, I am a part of a marginalized community, and within my marginalized community are marginalized communities.

I am responsible for us. I am my sister’s keeper.

If you aren’t sure where to begin, consider going to a drag brunch in your local community. There is so much joy at these events. Also, consider watching a season of RuPaul’s Drag Race to familiarize yourself with drag culture and the community. Seeing the humanity within our queens will create empathy, which always leads to action.

And lastly, please consider donating to the Drag Defense Fund at https://action.aclu.org/give/support-drag-defense-fund

Walking in heels…I am still not good at it. But my god, I keep trying.

This is how it works. This is how we change…ourselves first, and then the world.