Live like a king,y’all: Gender negotiation and the performance of masculinity among Southern drag kings

Abstract

This paper draws upon interviews with 27 drag kings in the South to examine why individuals perform drag, the range of performance experiences, and how drag kinging challenges dichotomous ideas about gender. We use these interviews to demonstrate the importance of context in understanding the drag king culture. We clearly show that in the South the performance of masculinity in the form of drag differs from other areas of the country. Our findings indicate that Southern drag kings, in general, do not overtly challenge the gender status quo as previous research assumes. Rather, they turn to drag as a safe and fun outlet for female masculinity and as a place to test the waters of transsexuality. Despite their often individualistic rationales, we argue that the act of performing drag still challenges the gender order and enables others to engage in political thought and push for change in our society.

Keywords

Drag gender masculinities sexuality South

Masculinity, specifically white, male masculinity, has been rendered as non-performative, the base line from which all other gender performances are measured (Butler, 1990). Thus, female masculinities within academia, the media, and society at large have been pushed to the margins (Halberstam, 1998). Masculinity is about “notions of power and legitimacy and privilege” which become known “where and when it leaves the white male middle class body” (Halberstam, 1998: 2). Masculine power is divided and broken down as it crosses other characteristics such as race, gender, class, and sexuality. Since the expression of masculinity is only validated from the white, male, middle-class, heterosexual position, when women perform masculinity it is either ignored or stigmatized (Halberstam, 1998).

Due to their invisibility, female masculinities develop in isolation of one another. Ayoup and Podmore (2002) argue that the variety found within drag king culture is due to the fact that drag king cultures have formed independently of one another because of a lack of female masculinities in the media. Similarly, Piontek (2002) and Johnson (2008) point out that context and historical location is paramount in understanding drag kinging and gay culture, respectively. Piontek (2002) argues Halberstam’s (1998, 1999) attempt to theorize drag kings based only on drag kings from major metropolitan areas falls far short of being an overarching framework for understanding drag kinging. Likewise, Johnson (2008) points out that scholars’ assumptions that gay cultures may flourish only in large urban areas on the East and West coasts of the United States smacks of elitism and obscures the significant and ongoing presence of gay Southerners. Piontek (2002: 126) argues that Halberstam’s (1999) claim that “the Drag King lives in cities that never sleep” and “thrives on varied queer nightlife” of these cities is limited at best. Through a study of Midwestern drag kings, Piontek (2002) finds that drag in smaller cities and communities is present and thriving. Unsurprisingly, research on drag kinging in other regions of the US remains limited.

Research indicates that this phenomenon of labeling gay culture as urban is not limited to drag (Howard, 1999; Johnson, 2008). Howard (1999) and Johnson (2008) challenge the idea that gay/queer culture is restricted to urban areas through studies of queer Southerners. Both scholars provide compelling evidence for why we would be remiss to limit queer culture, such as drag, to the city and the need to expand our understanding of queer taking into consideration rural life, religion, and race.

The purpose of this paper is to broaden the research on drag kings by investigating drag in the South. Just as Howard (1999) and Johnson (2008) illuminate the thriving queer culture in Mississippi and the South writ large, respectively, our research points to a vibrant underground drag culture in South Carolina. This drag culture challenges the claim that masculinity belongs only to males. Through qualitative interviews we find that, like drag kings in other areas of the country, Southern drag kings gain a better understanding of gender through performing drag. However, our findings also indicate that Southern drag kings differ from other kings that have been previously studied in two key ways. First, Southern kings cite individualistic reasons for participating in drag as opposed to a combination of individual and social motivations. Second, challenging the gender system is not a primary goal. Whereas drag in other areas of the country is overtly political and has feminist motivations, Southern drag kings use drag as an individual way to escape the gender-rigid environment in which they live. They do not seek to change gender ideology through drag; rather they wish to live outside its boundaries temporarily. However, drag kinging is in itself a subversive act that challenges men’s claims to masculinity and allows drag kings the opportunity to imagine a differently gendered society.

Drag kinging and gender

Brief history of drag kinging

Drag queen performances date back to 19th century female impersonators. However, drag kinging did not reach critical mass in the United States until the 1990s, due to the combination of the marginalization of lesbians and the conflation of white males with masculinity (Halberstam, 1998; Shapiro, 2007). Halberstam (1998: 232) defines a drag king as “a female (usually) who dresses up in recognizably male costume and performs theatrically in that costume.” Similarly, Shapiro (2007: 251) defines drag kings as “female bodied people performing masculinities.” For this analysis of drag kinging in the South, we define drag kings as any person who performs masculinity within the context of a drag show or contest.

Sennett and Bay-Cheng (2002) point out the limitations of assuming a fixed body underneath the performance of gender. During observation of drag shows for this project, the first author witnessed a female-bodied person performing femininity as a drag queen and a male-bodied person performing masculinity as a drag king (a practice referred to by performers as faux drag). Many performers layer genders to confuse the audience and demonstrate the performative nature of gender (Halberstam, 1998; Butler, 1990). Determining the sex of the body underneath the performance can prove to be difficult if not impossible, thus severing the connection between sex and gender. One important effect of drag kinging is its ability to expose the contradictions within the categorization of gender (Noble, 2002). In line with the idea of challenging gender, Butler (1993: 312) echoes Esther Newton (1979) in arguing “drag is not an imitation or copy of some prior and true gender … drag enacts the very structure of impersonation by which any gender is assumed.” Drag does not mean to enact the gender of some other group because there is no inherent portrayal of gender or no gender that belongs to one sex or the other. Drag demonstrates the arbitrariness of gender as a category and challenges any inherent meaning of the concept.

Previous research suggests that there are substantial differences in drag kings’ and drag queens’ gender identity as a result of drag performance and their reasons for doing drag (Willox, 2002; Rupp et al., 2010). Rupp et al., (2010) found that in contrast to drag queens, drag kings experienced transformations in their gender identity as a result of doing drag over time and they turned to drag as a direct challenge to gender norms. Similarly, Willox (2002: 274) argues that drag kings emerged to challenge and destabilize categories of gender, while queens represent merely a “comical rebuff to straight society.” Given the different origins of drag kings and queens, theorists must be conscious of the cultural and historical differences between the performances and formulate unique perspectives on these different challenges to the gender system (Willox, 2002).

Research on drag kinging often argues that drag kings’ performance of masculinities is more revolutionary than drag queens’ performance of femininities (Butler, 1993; Halberstam, 1998; Willox, 2002). Masculinity is the category to which all forms of gender expression are compared, therefore, “drag kings serve the purpose of pointing out the constructed nature of masculinity assumed to be an origin, giving impetus to the questioning of a ‘natural’ reciprocity between masculinity and male embodiment” (Willox, 2002: 279). If drag kinging is “infinitely more subversive” than drag queens’ performances, then all drag king performances are “always already subversive whether this is acknowledged by the performer as an intention or not” (Willox, 2002: 280).

The first study to specifically look at the effects of drag kinging was Halberstam’s (1998) groundbreaking work, Female Masculinities. As more research began to focus on drag kinging as a social phenomenon, Troka et al. (2002) argued that it was decontextualized and, therefore, did not provide a complete view of the complexities of drag kinging. Here we attempt to consider the effects of regional context upon drag kings. As we discuss below, norms emphasizing politeness (Cohen et al., 1999; Johnson, 2008), an emphasis on family even in non-traditional forms (Weston, 1997), a lack of other non-cisgender contexts outside of drag and lower socioeconomic status and educational levels combine to form a unique Southern dimension to drag kinging that is no less legitimate than other king cultures.

Gender identities within drag king culture

Shapiro (2007: 251) argues that the process of participating in drag culture functions as “a form of consciousness raising and a site of identity transformation for performers.” Rupp et al. (2010) echo this by suggesting that unlike drag queens, who often question their gender identity at a young age and prior to entering drag, kings often reconsider their own gender identity as a result of performing drag. Drag kings’ ability to view gender from various standpoints enables them to alter meanings and expectations of what it means to be a man, woman, or something in between. Drag also allows drag kings to adjust their expectations of the characteristics and behaviors that accompany the performance of masculinity and femininity.

Drag is a location used to challenge the gender system that society at large holds people accountable to and a place to explore one’s own personal gender identity (Shapiro, 2007). In a study of drag kings in Santa Barbara, Shapiro (2007: 253) found four mechanisms that caused drag kings to experience shifts in their understanding of gender and their own gender identity: “imaginative possibility, information and resources, opportunities for enactment, and social support.” Through the participation in drag troupes – a group of drag kings and/or queens who perform together on a regular basis – Shapiro (2007) witnessed that the majority of drag kings either took on a new gender identity or redefined a current gender identity in new ways. Being in a drag troupe also enables members to receive information and resources surrounding gender. Often being a part of drag culture includes interaction with transgender, transsexual, and gender-queer individuals which challenges all members’ assumptions about gender and ties them to resources for addressing gender identity and transformation. Since drag kings do not hold themselves accountable for doing gender according to sex, they are able to create a space to play with gender and question whether it is innate (Shapiro, 2007).

Research on gender identity and transformation among drag kings suggests that gender is fluid and the dichotomous system of man/woman does not match the actual diversity of gender identities. Through drag people gain the ability to see this diversity and deconstruct the linear relationship between sex and gender without doing away with the notion of gender identity all together. By viewing gender as a continuum, drag kings overcome the binary system of gender, while maintaining their own unique gender identity.

Study design and sample

The first drag king in South Carolina, Tex (a respondent in our study) began performing in 1969 at the Fortress Club in Columbia. Returning to South Carolina, Tex recruited four performers for the first drag king show in 2003. In 2005, Tex formed a drag king troupe, Tex and the Capital City Kings, that performed regularly at PT’s Cabaret, a gay bar in Columbia. Drag kings have had a presence in at least 15 different gay and lesbian bars across the state. The drag kings interviewed for this project performed across the state from Greenville to Charleston. We interviewed 27 drag kings who have performed or who currently perform drag in South Carolina. The first author conducted the interviews between April 2013 and July 2013, using a guided in-depth interview to explore their gender identity and drag experiences. Twelve of the interviews were conducted in-person and the remaining 15 were conducted via phone. The interviews lasted 15 to 60 minutes and were recorded and transcribed.

The first author located respondents through personal contacts and social media. They previously performed drag in South Carolina and had contacts among several kings there. Other interviewees were recruited via social media, specifically through the drag bar Facebook pages. In addition, we relied on snowball sampling – we asked each interviewee about other drag kings who might be interested in the project, resulting in 27 respondents. Each interviewee chose to be identified by their real drag names.

We sought to determine whether drag in the South was different from other areas of the country and how this queer subculture functions in the conservative Bible Belt. We did not intend to prove a particular hypothesis; rather we set out to see what drag kinging means to those living outside metropolitan areas with thriving queer cultures. We interviewed respondents until common patterns and stories consistently emerged, thus reaching saturation.

Table 1 provides sample characteristics of the respondents. The respondents ranged in age from 18 to 59 and all had experience performing in the South Carolina drag king scene. The kings’ experience with drag ranged from five months to 43 years. The majority of the respondents (74%) identified their race as white and/or Caucasian. One-third of the sample had completed an Associate’s degree or more while the remaining two-thirds had a high school diploma, General Education Development (GED), or some college education. Over 60% of the sample was originally from South Carolina and all but two were born within the US. Approximately 60% of the sample identified their gender as female/woman and their sexual orientation as lesbian. Three respondents used the term gay instead of lesbian, but all reported their gender as female (respondents did not distinguish between sex and gender terminology). Four respondents identified their sexual orientation as heterosexual, all of whom were in the process of transitioning from female to male and identified as transsexual. Three other respondents reported planning to transition from female to male in the future.

Table 1.

Sample characteristics.

Drag Name	Age	Race	Highest Education	Place of Birth	Sexual Orientation	Gender
Ayden	37	Caucasian	Bachelor of Art	SC	Lesbian	Female
Bo	31	White	Some College	SC	Lesbian	Woman
Carson Scott	37	Native American	Some College	SC	Just me/Gay	Just me/Unisex
Chase Down	22	White	Associates	SC	Open	Girly & stud
Colby King	26	White	Associates	SC	Lesbian	Female
Conner Rush Duprii	20	Caucasian/White	HS diploma	SC	Pansexual	Female
Derrick	28	White	Bachelor of Art	SC	Gay	Female
Hayden Lowe	24	White	Some College	GA	Lesbian	Female
Ivan Eatner	19	White	Some College	SC	Straight	Male/transgender
Jayden Lee Lowe	23	White	Some College	GA	Lesbian	Female
Jinx Kelly	34	White	HS diploma	SC	Lesbian	Female
Justin Case	28	Caucasian	Bachelor of Art	PA	Gay	Female
Liquor Down	21	Hispanic/Italian	Some College	NC	Lesbian	Woman
Lucas Storm	23	White	Some College	GA	Lesbian	Transvestite
Oliver Clothessoff	24	White/Jewish	Some College	SC	Lesbian	Female
Prince Dryden	28	White	Associates	SC	Lesbian	Female
Oliver Fox	18	White	HS diploma	OH	Straight	Mentally male/physically girl
Romeo	28	White/Black/Indian	HS diploma	SC	Lesbian	Up in the air
Ryder Cox	26	White/Native American	Bachelor of Art	SC	Straight	Trans guy/male
Shawn Lance Hardwood	24	Hispanic	Associates	Puerto Rico	Lesbian to straight	Trans FTM
Sir Cameron Sinklair	29	White	GED	SC	Lesbian	Man in a woman's body
Sir Michael Montgomery	50	White	HS diploma	SC	Lesbian	Female
Tex	59	White	Some College	TX	Gay/Butch	Female
Warren Payne	26	Pacific Islander/White	Some College	Philippines	Lesbian	Female
Wes Starr	27	White/Caucasian	Some College	SC	Lesbian	Female
Xavier	31	Caucasian	HS diploma	NC	Lesbian	Neutral
Xavier Dupri	31	White	Bachelor of Science	SC	Straight	Transgender man

Findings

Entry into drag kinging

Entry into drag kinging was tied to a long-term identification with masculinity, dating from childhood. All respondents identified as childhood tomboys but most attempted to perform cisgender identities in high school as a result of peer and parental pressure. Many respondents made a point of dating boys, even if they were not attracted to males. Respondents typically spent their childhoods in small towns they described as conservative and religious, as Wes Starr describes:

I was in a very close-minded part of town so you couldn’t really be out in school. You had to kind of conform to everything around you so it wasn’t like I was going to a high school and middle school in cargo shorts and a polo shirt. I kind of conformed as much as I had to … I still wore blue jeans and tennis shoes and flip flops but I had my hair long. I wore makeup. I wore kind of girly shirts or tee shirts. As soon as I could join the ROTC I did because it got me in uniform and I didn’t have to try and decide what to wear every day of the week.

Likewise, Xavier Dupri recalled the sense of deception he felt towards his high school gender performances, saying: “It was all a cover up thing. My family is Southern Baptist. Very religious and it wasn’t widely accepted in the middle of the sticks.” Toward the latter half of high school, respondents whose parents were accepting of nontraditional gender identities began to transition from a cisgender appearance to a more masculine self-presentation, such as wearing men’s clothing or binding their breasts. Respondents with parents intolerant of non-cisgender identities delayed adopting a more masculine identity until they no longer lived with their parents, usually in their early 20 s. Warren Payne described this transition, saying:

I think it changed for me my senior year when I started realizing that I wasn’t alone in the way I felt. I felt like liking girls was wrong but as I started seeing things in the media and around me I realized that I shouldn’t suppress myself to what is socially acceptable and be myself and be in my own skin and feel comfortable.

Respondents also cited gender expression as a rationale for entering into drag, specifically as a venue for expressing a true self that was taboo off stage or a strategy for evaluating the idea of transitioning from female to male. Ryder Cox explained: “[Drag kinging] was a way to be exactly who I wanted to be without the fear of judgment … when I am on stage and I feel completely comfortable because I am being viewed as the guy that I know I am.” On a similar note, Prince Dryden noted: “It helps me to express myself in a way that I can’t necessarily muster up the courage, or have the self-confidence to be in everyday life … [on stage] my whole demeanor changes, my whole outlook about the way I feel about myself changes.”

Other kings cited an explicit rejection of their masculine selves by significant others and their need for an outlet for masculine gender expression. Ivan Eatner, a transgender man, attended an all-female college and his parents did not support his transgender identity. Performing on stage served as a way of releasing the stress inherent in his everyday life. Oliver Clothessoff was forced out of his sorority after other members discovered he was gay. Feeling isolated and rejected, Oliver began performing at Cabaret as a way to make new friends, noting the tight knit networks in the drag scene. Respondents also noted that the acceptance offered by drag king communities could be particularly helpful to transgender men. Jinx offered his observations, saying:

I met more transgendered people doing drag than I had ever met before. I guess that’s just a natural outlet. You know, I guess more people are naturally drawn to [drag kinging] if they don’t feel comfortable in their skin because it’s the first arena where you’re accepted as your new persona … It’s made me realize that gender’s not exactly black or white.

In terms of their stated motivations for entering the drag scene, many kings claimed to perform “just for fun” or to relieve stress. Southern norms of politeness support the status quo, at least on the surface, and this likely affected respondents’ willingness to use drag as a socially subversive force (Johnson, 2008). Instead, respondents used drag to meet individualized needs. The stress respondents cited was frequently caused by societal reactions to their gender non-conformity. Cash tips for performances and free drinks were only secondary benefits for most respondents and did not necessarily represent a significant sum after travel and costume expenses. Some kings felt performing gave them a sense of excitement unavailable in their everyday lives, as Colby King noted when he said: “[you] walk your happy ass out on that stage and perform and you know, it’s the adrenaline rush.” Like other performers who reported that drag kinging was simply for fun, Colby was comfortable with a masculine appearance in his everyday life. Others struggled to come to terms with this aspect of their gender identity and the reinforcement offered by performing masculinity in a positive atmosphere made negotiating gender easier, as Lucas Storm pointed out:

I know a few performers do it for the money. Some performers, it’s a hobby. Me personally, I do it because when I first started doing drag I had a really low self-esteem; I didn’t really like the way I looked I didn’t really like who I was. I wasn’t comfortable with myself. So when I did drag thinking I was Lucas, I would always feel comfortable. I’ve always felt comfortable as being Lucas and it’s helped me with my own self-esteem in being Amanda.

In addition to a greater sense of self-acceptance, drag kings also reported intense network ties – some referred to these networks as families. This choice of analogy is perhaps unsurprising, given the centrality of family in Southern cultures. In the case of drag kings, rejection by biological families may have spurred on a search for alternative family, or what Weston (1997) refers to as “families we choose.” Drag families were typically started by experienced performers who mentored newer performers; they referred to this as “raising” them, as one would a son. Frequently, “baby kings” would adopt the “daddy king’s” stage last name, thus several respondents in our sample have the same last name. Drag families in South Carolina took pride in being heterogeneous. Specifically, the drag families in this study were racially integrated. While race is salient, in the South especially, drag families emphasized diversity. Many of the white kings had black drag mamas or wives and racially diverse brothers and sisters. The families were also open and accepting of various gender identities and sexualities. For example, one “brother” may have a feminine appearance outside of drag while supporting another who is in the process of gender transition.

Drag family ties persevered even if a king stopped performing or moved away from South Carolina. The depth of these relationships was suggested by the use of kings’ female names off stage – family members knew each other well enough to use these names, which were considered private and never used in a performance context, thus more casual acquaintances such as bar friends never had cause to use them. Ryder Cox explained the meaning of being invited to join a family, saying: “[it’s a] huge honor … it pushes you to perform better and to put more into because you’re not only representing yourself anymore, you’re representing your entire drag family.” Oliver noted some of the mechanics and camaraderie of being a family: “I have my drag family too and so we all stick together … we have wig washing parties and we work on glitter techniques … they help me with costuming and learning how to sew.” Xavier Dupri, a member of a multi-generational family, described the close knit bonds some drag families developed:

We all just stick together under the Dupri name and like represent for each other. We help out a lot with each other’s shows … Off stage we’re really involved with each other’s lives. I’ve four sons. They call like two or three times a week, let me know how things are going and we helped one find a job and get his life back together. We got one of them off of drugs … We keep the boys straightened out. With drag, it’s really easy. There are positive relationships in drag and a lot of times being an entertainer you get steered into the world of drinking and drugs, stuff like that. So we try to keep their heads straight, keep them focused on what exactly they want.

Xavier’s statement demonstrates the rewards of belonging to a family both on stage and off.

Drag performances

Drag kings’ performances typically took place in bars, although not all of these bars were designated ‘gay bars.’ Respondents in this study had performed primarily in cities in South Carolina, North Carolina and Georgia. A few had performed in places like California, Colorado, Ohio, Japan and New Zealand. Performing involves being on stage and lip syncing to songs by male artists spanning multiple genres. Kings usually select upbeat, fast-paced songs, explaining that is more difficult to maintain their masculine personas during slow numbers. Kings report that audiences are composed primarily of women and “sexier” songs brought greater tips from audience members.

Kings often model their stage persona after another man such as their drag father, Prince, Aaron Carter, or Michael Jackson. Others base their drag king image on another version of themselves, for example, what they think they’d be like if they were male or the most exuberant part of their personality. Oliver Fox referred to putting the more lurid parts of his personality on stage as letting “my freak flag fly.” Justin Case took a less extreme tactic but still told us: “I find the most confident, energetic, fun-loving part of my character, I just take that and exemplify it and times it by five and then I put that out there and that’s what Justin Case is.” Outfits may or may not be designed to mimic those of original artists singing the song. Kings’ personas can be stable regardless of song choices for that performance or kings may alter personas for each song. Drag kings may perform as gay (desiring men) or heterosexual (desiring women), but the sexual orientation of the individual does not necessarily match that of their king persona.

Some dissension arose among respondents when asked about costumes. A few younger, less experienced kings reported they wore street clothes to perform, particularly if they preferred more “butch” clothing in their off stage lives, adding only some facial hair or binding their breasts. More experienced performers objected to this practice, arguing that unless a performer was willing to make a significant effort with his appearance, the performance was not drag. Oliver Fox explained his position on costuming: “It’s gotta have rhinestones on it or I won’t wear it … you’ve just got to have some awesomeness to it. Rainbows or sparkles or, absolutely no jeans, absolutely no jeans. Closet drag is terrible. I’m so sick of it.” More lavishly costumed performers argued that drag kings who wore street clothes were “lazy” and an embarrassment to the drag family they belonged to. Thus, many more experienced kings considered fashion guidance to be a critical part of mentoring less experienced kings. In line with this, Tex discussed how younger, less experienced kings did not want to spend money on outfits, attributing this to laziness. This practice of dressing in street clothes during performances seems to be unique to Southern kings. While more experienced kings often complained about casually dressed kings, these less experienced kings were often using drag as a transition to masculinity and may have been more interested in ‘everyday’ masculinities that would translate to their off-stage. Additionally, it may be that the relatively lower socioeconomic status of kings in our sample means elaborate costuming is impractical.

Varied effects of drag kinging on gender identity and expression

There are a number of parallels between Southern drag kings and drag kings in other parts of the country. However, we must note the contextual variations in drag kinging. As Halberstam (1998) and Ayoup and Podmore (2002) clearly articulated, the effect of female masculinities, specifically drag king cultures, being developed in relative isolation of one another has created variations between the different subcultures.

Despite the variations in drag king subcultures, we found that the experience of drag kinging had a fairly uniform effect on individuals’ gender identity and expression. This study supports Shapiro’s (2007: 259) findings that drag “encouraged self-reflexivity about gender identity” and “led to participants’ gender identity shifts.” We found the same four mechanisms – imaginative possibility, information and resources, opportunities for enactment, and social support – are also relevant for Southern drag kings (Shapiro, 2007). However, we found that being located in a Southern context was quite salient to these kings and altered these mechanisms somewhat, as we discuss below.

Drag provided kings “a space where they began to imagine other ways of being gendered in their everyday lives” (Shapiro, 2007: 260). While this alternative space would matter in any context, it is particularly critical in regions where gender-progressive politics and norms are not typical or uniform. For example, some Southern kings who wished to transition from female to male bodies used drag as a way to imagine their lives after the transition. Drag helped them to decide if transitioning was the right decision for them or to imagine living as a man if there were barriers that kept them from actually transitioning. Gender-traditional norms that may be more pronounced in the South mean that women typically garner less respect in everyday interactions than do men. Drag afforded our respondents an opportunity to make comparisons between their lives and statuses as women and the potential change a masculine identity afforded. Xavier Dupri said that:

Doing drag gave me the opportunity to experience life as a boy and how society and people react to you as a boy. When you’re the only one who knows the truth about what’s underneath your clothes, no one else knows, and the way people react to you is so much different. Maybe it’s because we’re in the South, the Bible Belt or whatever, but it seems like if people think you’re a boy you get more respect, than if you’re a butch lesbian I guess. So it was a good start for me to see what life was like looking through someone else’s eyes.

Drag provided the opportunity to imagine a different gender they felt more comfortable with. Romeo explained that drag is “a chance to be something [else] for just a minute … before discovering that I really dig being a guy, it was a chance to be a guy.” Given the lack of gender transgressive spaces in the South, drag took on an even greater significance in imagining non-cisgender possibilities.

For both transgender and non-transgender kings, drag provided information and resources about gender identity and for most it changed the way they thought about gender as a whole. Just as Shapiro (2007) found with kings in California, Southern drag kings used drag culture as an educational venue for gender/transgender issues. Unlike California kings, drag often represented the only such venue Southern kings encountered. For Justin Case, drag opened his eyes to the possibilities of gender:

Being in the drag culture kind of exposed me a lot to other people and then doing the gender bender myself [made me realize] that we all kind of have a little bit of everything inside of us … allowing yourself to be open and experience and express different things just really kind of opens your eyes and your thoughts of gender and who you are and people around you.

Wes Starr explained that doing drag helped him to be more open minded about gender:

Being from the South you’re raised a certain way, you’re raised with a closed mind and I didn’t really understand why somebody would want to change their gender, or change their sex. But doing drag or seeing other people do drag and seeing how comfortable somebody could be in that, in that persona, helped me understand that some people just like to be that way. Some people aren’t meant to be a certain gender … it’s their way to be who they really want to be.

In a Southern context, positive messages about queer cultures or transgender identities is uncommon and drag provided, in many cases, the only sources of information, as opposed to being one of many sources available in other parts of the country.

Through drag many kings were provided opportunities for enactment or felt that it provided their friends opportunities which were not possible in their everyday lives. Living in the South, the most religious and conservative part of the country, many kings felt uncomfortable displaying their masculinity outside of the drag context. Ayden felt drag permitted his friends who were transitioning to be more comfortable with their genders: “It kind of gives you a little less limits … I know several friends who are transitioning, that it is kind of like being able to act out life a little more realistically for themselves.” Similarly, Xavier said that he felt that some people do drag for “gender reasons, and being able to give it a shot and see.” Colby King went so far as to say that he believed that “probably 75% of the girls out there who do drag … do it for the alter ego personality, to be the man because they want to be.” Even the drag kings who claimed to do drag solely for entertainment acknowledged that it provided others with an opportunity to enact a different gender that was taboo in their everyday lives in a conservative and religious region.

Finally, drag provided social support for individuals’ gender identities and expressions. Jinx described drag as a place where transgendered people can feel more comfortable and be supported: “I guess more people are naturally drawn to that if they don’t feel comfortable in their skin because it’s like the first arena where you’re accepted as your new persona.” For Ryder Cox drag was a place where he could be himself “without fear of judgment,” a place where different gender identities were both accepted and celebrated. In short, the stage offered relief in a context of stigma associated with non-cisgender identities.

How Southern drag kings differ from other kings

In spite of similarities in the effects of drag kinging on individuals’ gender identities across different regions of the country, regional context influences why drag kings turn to drag as an outlet. In contrast to Halberstam’s (1998) analysis of drag kinging occurring in “cities that never sleep,” our findings support claims by Piontek (2002), Howard (1999), and Johnson (2008) that drag and queer culture more generally thrive in other areas of the country. Our findings indicate that drag is not only a phenomenon occurring in areas with vibrant queer cultures, but is also a way of life for many in smaller communities across the South. We argue that drag in these areas of the country may be even more important to participants than drag in major metropolitan areas where there is a thriving queer scene.

In contrast to drag kings in other areas of the country, Southern drag kings do not enter drag or perform drag primarily for political or feminist agendas. Halberstam’s (1998: 244) work suggests that many performers’ reasons for doing drag are superficial; since some kings say they do drag “just for fun” these answers “do not really convey any interesting or useful information about drag and its motivations, nor do they get to the ‘truth’ of the drag king scene.” Although we agree with Halberstam that drag has larger political implications in society, we argue that this does not mean that drag kings’ answers that drag is “just for fun” is without import. Such an answer indicates that respondents recognize their oppressive context and seek out drag as an individual outlet without consciously seeking to change the gender status quo. What Halberstam fails to consider is that characterizing drag as “just for fun” while living in an oppressive gender context may be a rational act of self-preservation.

Overall, Southern drag kings’ educational background and lack of theoretical knowledge about gender preclude overt challenges to the gender system, independent of any desire (or lack thereof) to do so. Eighteen out of 27 (67%) kings interviewed for this study had some college, a high school diploma, or a GED. Four participants held an Associate’s degree and five held a Bachelor’s degree. None of the drag kings interviewed explicitly claimed to be a feminist and only a few seemed to identify at all with the mission of feminism as a struggle for equality among all genders. Comparing Southern kings to previous samples – highly educated activists who perform as a direct challenge to the current gender system – we can clearly see that context matters (Troka et al., 2002; Piontek, 2002; Shapiro, 2007; Rupp et al., 2010). The majority of drag kings in previous studies are described as graduate students and/or individuals who hold theoretical knowledge of the impact of gender and sexuality in society (Piontek, 2002; Shapiro, 2007; Rupp et al., 2010). One troupe was portrayed as individuals who held “connections to academic feminism and queer theory” which led them to perform “to numbers that conveyed messages about sexism, racism, body size, and militarism, as well as gender and sexuality” (Rupp et al., 2010: 279). Similarly, Piontek (2002: 128) describes a drag troupe engaged in performances that challenge the gender binary; their shows “not only reflect current debates about the performativity of gender in feminism and queer theory; they also complicate them in productive and entertaining ways.” In the Southern context, opportunities for progressive change are rarer. Southern kings appear to be aware of this and choose not to fight this uphill battle on behalf of societal change. In the South, ideals of politeness and conservative gender norms may make an overt statement challenging gender unappealing to kings, especially when they perceive there is little to be gained. Kings already have access to non-cisgender spaces whether they combine kinging with a political stance or not. Overt protest may feel more like a rhetorical exercise than a set of actions with a practical goal.

The lack of challenge to social norms was most evident in the kings’ names and the content of the performances. Drag names like Ivan Eatner, Liquor Down, and Oliver Clothessoff appear to support sexism rather than challenge it. Performances also appear to support sexism and the oppression of women. During the first author’s observations of shows in June 2013, performers largely dressed in stereotypical men’s clothing and performed songs about their desire to be with women in heteronormative sexual activities. For example, one performer lip synched to Genuwine’s In those Jeans, with the lyrics “Looking good plenty tight tell me is there any more room for me in those jeans, Really thick like I like it, Tell me is there any more room for me in those jeans.” Another performer chose Baby Let me Take You Home by The Animals. While he was performing, a drag queen jumped on stage and pretended to have a sexual encounter with him. During the first author’s observations, there were no performances that challenged sexism, racism, or homophobia overtly the way that previous research has shown happens in other areas of the country. We see this as evidence of the inability or unwillingness to fight for social change. Rather than doing drag for political reasons, Southern drag kings, for the most part, perform to escape the reality that female masculinity is devalued in the South. Challenging the blatant sexism, racism, or homophobia of the South would transform their performances into a political act and seemingly defeat the purpose of escape. The kings’ names, song choices, and performances can be seen in contrast, and often contradiction, to overtly political statements for social change made by kings in other areas of the country.

The majority of drag kings we interviewed understood the importance of drag for those questioning their gender identity and as an outlet for exploring different gender expressions; however, they continued to indicate that they perform drag “just for fun,” meaning drag was intended to benefit the individual only. We argue that this means many drag kings have no larger political or theoretical motives for wanting to perform drag – they are not seeking to change anything but their own lives. In an environment bracketed off from other drag communities, drag kinging is a place where kings are free to have fun. Out of the 27 kings interviewed only six (22%) said that they felt that drag was an overtly political statement. Another 26% of the sample felt drag was in no way a political statement and was only for fun. Twelve of the 27 kings (44%) said that they could see ways that drag could be political, but that in general and for themselves it was only for fun. When asked if drag kinging is a political statement, Justin Case said: “I can see ways that it would be or could be used like that. But from all the experiences I’ve had it’s just about fun and escape.” Along the same lines, Ayden says that he tries to get his straight friends involved because he feels that they could learn from drag; however, “I try to approach it and get as many people involved that would not normally be involved based on entertainment rather than making it such a political thing.” In general, drag in the South seems to be for individual self-realization, not an explicitly political agenda.

To demonstrate this point, when Southern drag kings were asked if drag was related to feminism the majority either did not know what feminism meant (30%) or did not see any correlation between drag and feminism (33%). Some had never heard the term or did not know how to define it. Others defined it based on a broad definition of feminism meaning that women should have same rights and opportunities as men. Overall, they felt that drag was not an outlet to make a stand for women’s equality and some even felt that drag was the antithesis of feminism. Some kings said that they knew some feminists who did drag or that they supposed it could be related, but no kings claimed to be feminists or participate in drag for this reason. Wes Starr was one of the kings who perceived a negative relationship between feminism and drag – “I see a negative one, maybe. Given that maybe some feminists look negatively against drag because it is a female trying to be a male so I think that there may be some negative feelings between that.” Along the same lines, Carson Scott questioned how one could be a feminist and transgender/transsexual at the same time. He argued that wanting to transition from female to male exempted the majority of kings from feminism, which he conflated with femininity:

How can you be a feminist when you’re a drag king? I can’t be a feminist and prefer you call me a male while I’m in drag … It would be like a hypocrite, like a Bible thumper. Because here I am saying I’m a feminist, I’m all woman, but I’m dressing as a man and wanting you to call me as a he … it doesn’t go together because a feminist is all woman and all about the female empowerment and everything else and drag kings aren’t about that, we’d pretty much rather be not.

Finally, Jinx agreed that drag kinging opposes feminism because drag kinging is “an over-celebration of masculinity.” These Southern kings’ understandings of feminism stand in stark contrast to those of kings across the country, whose connections to graduate education meant they explicitly connected drag to feminism. This is likely tied to the different educational status of South Carolina kings. Unlike studies of West Coast and Northeastern kings, who often hold advanced degrees and have been exposed to feminist and queer theory, Southern kings cannot draw on these tropes in forming their understandings of drag kinging.

Based on Southern drag kings’ claims about ‘fun’ we must consider whether drag kinging in the Southern context challenges gender norms, leaves them unaltered, or reifies them. While simply having ‘fun’ would suggest that gender norms would be unaffected, we find that kings’ performances have implications that go beyond kings’ intentions. We conclude that gender norms are challenged when kings perform masculinity in ways that disconnect it from male bodies and reinscribe it onto female bodies. However, as is evident in Southern kings’ drag names and performances, drag kinging also has the potential to reify certain forms of hyper-sexual and aggressive masculinity.

Conclusion

In sum, we find that context shapes drag kinging, leading to variations in how drag is understood and in content of performances. More conservative gender norms, lower levels of education, and lack of media attention to female masculinity all provide a context in which drag takes on a different meaning and purpose for individuals. Drag is a stage for providing personal satisfaction, entertainment, a place for social support, and an environment where it is safe to deal with one’s “own [gender] demons, if you will, I think it’s therapy” (Xavier). Even when drag kings participate for fun, drag still has the potential for change. The kings interviewed here and in previous studies gain broader understandings of gender, whether it is their own or gender in general, which they take out into the world and help to expand its meaning.

Based on our findings, we disagree with Rupp and Taylor (2003) that intentionality is necessary for political impact. We argue, in line with Willox (2002), that regardless of the drag kings’ purpose for performing – an intentionally political act or not – their performances nevertheless have the potential to challenge the gender system. By taking the role of a man, even if only for a performance, drag kings question the innateness of masculinity and claim that they have the same right to this power as any other person. That Southern kings do not put these challenges into words that are familiar to academics does not eliminate their impact. However, it is important to note that the drag kings’ purposely sexist names, song choices, and performances could also reinforce the power differentials between masculinity and femininity, while simultaneously claiming their own right to masculinity. Regardless of the kings’ intentions, their views of gender were transformed through drag. Overall, drag kinging allowed participants to gain a real world understanding of gender that “what’s between your legs is totally different from what’s in your head … than who you are” (Conner Rush Dupri).

An examination of drag in the South allows us to understand some of the unique aspects of gender in the South. Drag provides a lens into the lives of individuals who society and often their own families have turned away because they do not meet the cisgender ideals of masculinity and femininity. Though the South may not be ready for overt challenges to the gender hierarchy, drag provides a safe haven for many to be themselves and feel comfortable in a culture where traditional gender roles are based in conservative religion. Southern drag kings understand the conservative culture in which they were raised and do not set out to make a political statement against it, only to remove themselves from it for a short time.

Although Southern drag kings do not overtly challenge the gender system, as drag kinging becomes more mainstream and accepted more people will be forced to reconsider their beliefs about gender. No matter what the end goal of drag kings in the South may be, they are creating change and destabilizing gender. Whether they claim it or not, their performances provide both political and feminist challenges to our current system and demand that it is time for our society to become more open minded and accepting of the diversity of gender identities and expressions. It is true that this change will likely come about more slowly than in progressive environments or in places where drag is constructed as an explicit challenge to cisgender hierarchies. Nevertheless, Southern drag kings are an important part of the puzzle to overcoming the gender hierarchy in our society, particularly in contexts where few other challenges so thoroughly interrupt gender binaries.

Footnotes

Funding

This work was supported by a grant from Mississippi State University Loftin Fund for Graduate Research.

Ashley A Baker is a PhD Candidate in Sociology at Mississippi State University. Her research and teaching interests focus on inequality, specifically examining the intersections of gender, sexuality, and religion. Her work is published in the Review of Religious Research. She recently accepted a tenure track position as an Assistant Professor of Sociology at Simpson College to begin Fall 2015.

Kimberly Kelly is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at Mississippi State University. Her research and teaching interests include religion, social movements and reproductive politics and health. She has published articles in Gender & Society, Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, Journal of Contemporary Ethnography and several others.

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