Interview with Aidan aka Carson Freeway

4/6 3:42pm

LD: Could you tell me how you identify, if at all?

A: [chuckles] I mean, I do have many identities I guess. Um. I think the easiest is that I’m.. queer, trans, Christian, and I’m drag “something.” [both laugh] It depends on the day. I know that’s a lot of identities..

LD: No, it’s not!

A: Well, there’s a lot in all of those. I think that’s the best way to put it.

LD: Yeah, I hear you. Ok. What does drag mean to you?

A: Um.. I don’t know. I think drag is changing for me, primarily because I identify as female-to-male trans, doing drag as a boy is fun, but it’s also not doing drag because I’m dancing like myself, like a boy, on stage. And so, being a drag king sometimes feels fake—because I’m not a typical female identified female personifying a stereotypical male. I’m sortof male identified personifying myself. So drag is kind of changing for me a bit. You know I did my first show as a drag “queen” or something. I started doing drag after transitioning. I don’t know.. I’m sort of using drag to explore the feminine parts of myself I left behind, but also to be super-masculine in a way that I’m not. And so drag is both of the sides of the spectrum, the extremities that I never live in. If that makes any sense.. [laughs]

LD: Yeah, it does! So why do you perform or present in drag? It’s kind of related..

A: Yeah it is kind of related. I think it is “A.” I like being the center of attention [laughs]. Yeah there is a component of that for sure.. And “B” I think I like playing with parts of myself that aren’t really parts of myself. Taking an aspect of self and blowing it up, almost satirical proportions. I’m not super masculine in any way that your would stereotype “super masculine.” So getting to be this really cocky—maybe I’m doing country or something—and getting to play that role is some satirical fashion of some embodiment of myself. Yeah, so I think that’s why. And I know this paper isn’t about femininity, but it does allow me to wear heels sometimes. And I enjoy wearing heels, and I look good in some kinds of heels! So it’s a fun way to play with that part of myself that I don’t want to lose because of transitioning. So it allows me to stay in the middle for the most of the time and play on the extremes when I perform.

LD: That’s awesome. What has been your experience performing/presenting in Asheville?

A: I’ve performed more in Asheville than I have anywhere else. I only did drag twice before I came to Asheville, but nobody knew that when they asked me to perform—for Stonewall, was the first time. And I’ve had a really good experience, and I’ve done it at a couple of different venues in a couple of different ways, and felt really good about all of it. And it’s fun to be performing more, so I’ve gotten into these different aspects. You know, for me now, I enjoy getting up and lip-synching to a song, but I’ve also learned to work with other people and do some actual performance and make it less, that I’m a person pretending to sing a song and more about let’s show some presentation of what this song could be about and how we can relate in this song. I did a performance with somebody and we did “Smoking in the Boys Room” and this whole sort of play on the.. straight male aggression and sexual drive where we were pretending to give each other a blow job in the bathroom. And so it can be used in this way… I can’t think..

LD: Was that the show at the Boiler Room?

A: Yeah. It’s more of a social commentary now and less of like “Oh! I get to get up and play!” Yeah, that’s kind of fun. It’s really interesting.

LD: So has been different for you in Asheville particularly?

A: That’s the thing. When I performed in Richmond, where I’m from, It was at two different bars, and I did like amateur night at one bar and then I had a queen come up to me and ask me to be in a drag king show for the following week at another bar. And so that was mostly.. the amateur night was a “get up and do whatever you want to do” kind of thing. The king bar was sort of a presentation of Richmond’s kings, which was really cool and a nice sort of expose. So I don’t really have a lot of experience outside of Asheville. But in Asheville it’s sort of evolved from that--performing at stonewall, different places where it’s just “get up and do your deal, sit down, you had a good time” and has become more about, because I feel that it’s such an artistic community and a vibrant community in a lot of ways… There’s more… I don’t want to say “response” but I think people are looking for something in drag that’s more than just a person on stage shaking their ass. I think it’s become “what does this mean about our culture—this subculture of like queer identity?” You know, “what can you bring to the table that’s different?” And I think that’s what people respond to more that I’ve seen in Asheville. And I don’t know if that’s true in other places, but that’s what I see here in Asheville.

LD: Does drag inform or relate to your gender identity?

A: Ha! [both laugh] Yes and no. Like I said before, drag is way of being able to play on the edges. Because I don’t really fall into the feminine or masculine gender identity, but I am transitioning… Um.. which is an entirely separate issue. But I think it does because it lets me.. my identity is very much pulling out things of masculinity and femininity that I like. You know, I like the ways boys clothes fit but I really like to crochet. You know? And I’m picking two very stereotypical things, very stereotypically male and female things to do. So my identity is a blend of these different parts of what people believe to be masculinity or femininity combined into one. Drag is very much isolating stereotypes and playing into them and—like I said—almost like a satire. And it’s almost to a ludicrous point. So it does, but it doesn’t in way either. There are sort of positives and negatives for me.

LD: Yeah.. How does drag relate to your experience with gender norms and stereotypes—especially masculinity?

A: Um.. Again, I think it’s strange to be transitioning and using male pronouns, being—for the most part—perceived as male in society and culture and then say I’m doing a drag performance and look exactly the same as I would on the street. So I think that has to do with it.. I don’t know, drag is about buying into gender norms, but… like I said.. it’s almost like “here’s the middle line” and I know you can’t see that on the recorder but you have the masculine and feminine sides almost taking those things that are uber masculine and feminine and taking them over the line and over the top. So yes it does play into gender norms and gender stereotypes, but.. in a very social commentary way. In a very “in your face..” Cause you don’t learn how to be a woman or be a man from a drag show. Watching a drag queen is not going to teach you how to be a woman, but it will show you some of the things that maybe are considered feminine. I don’t know if that made sense or answered your question, but yeah.

LD: How did it feel to do femme drag?

A: Crazy. Weird. Awesome. And really cool. I have infinitely more respect for drag queens—not that I didn’t have respect for them—but it has doubled. [both laugh] Um.. because I’m pretty solid on a pair of heels. I’m pretty good at walking in a pair of heels, and I was like wobbling a bit trying to dance around. And I’m like “Okay.. Maybe this needs some practice. Okay. I mean it was really funny. Someone backstage was like “Oh my god, you have breasts! Can I touch them?” I mean it was someone I knew—it wasn’t inappropriate. It was really kinda funny. I think the crazy thing about femme drag is like I don’t bind when I’m not at work or church. When I’m somewhere when I’m not trying to be or play into a certain concept, I’m really comfortable just being me. I have this chest, and it hurts to bind. So you know most of the people who interact with me, see me in a sports bra. So I in fact do have breasts that are, to me, pretty obvious. And obvious enough to other people. People just staring at my chest “Where did those come from?” kind of way. Doing femme drag, I don’t know helped me see the way people see me most of the time. And this isn’t actually what they see, but it’s funny because it’s what I see. I see myself naked all the time. [laughs] So I know what I look like and other peoples’ perception of that, their reactions were over the top. It’s interesting.

LD: Do you have a drag persona? If so, how do you create your characters?

A: I do have a drag persona. I think I create my character in a way.. I think if I were born into a “naturally occurring penis body” [laughs] cause I don’t know what the correct term is anymore! But you know, if I were born into that body, I think that’s very much I would be like. In Richmond, we had drag mothers. There were drag families all over the place. And in Richmond I was adopted by this one drag queen whose name was Sharon Husbands, and she picks names by using plays on words. So “Sharin” “Husbands”..? And it was right before amateur night, and I was like “I really need a drag name. I don’t know which one to pick.” And some people were giving suggestions and she decided she was going to name me Carson Freeway. Like “cars on freeway” as just a play on words or whatever. But it was a drag name, and I’ve kept it cause it’s important to me to keep that connection. So Carson is my drag name, very preppy.. almost jockish persona and name and everything that goes with it. And I think that’s maybe how I would have been if I had been socialized male, very pop-your-collar, Abercrombie style [LD laughs] and I’m not that way at all! So it’s funny to think that “Wow I could have been this way.” But I’m not, I can just play with it now. That’s kind of where it came from.

LD: And how about Amanda?

A: [sighs] Well Amanda was sort of a… If I continue doing female drag I will come up with another drag persona and come up with an actual name and persona around that. Amanda was just the name of the artist I was doing and it was easier than trying to come up with name in two hours. I don’t know.. that was weird the planning of what to wear, what to look like.. Before I started transitioning, I looked really silly in girls’ clothes.. with big shoulders. When I tried to wear spaghetti straps, I looked like a line backer in a dress. [both laugh] It’s pretty funny. So trying to play into that and realizing that those limitations are still there. In fact they’re worse because of muscle mass builds up in my arms and shoulders that really wasn’t there before and that even more makes me look like a line backer in a dress. So it’s been kinda funny. Sometimes I feel that having a female body is wonderful, amazing thing, and I make peace with that. But I still do have certain anatomy that gives me away as female. And recognizing when I use that and play into it that I have much more that gives me away as male. I’m walking this crazy line in between. There are things that prevent me from being stereotypical either way. That was kinda interesting. That was fun to think about. I don’t know if that answered your question.

LD: I think you did… Anything else you’d like to share about your experience with drag?

A: Drag, like gender and identity, is just one of those things that I think about all the fucking time. I think it’s one of those things like sometimes you’re okay with your body and so I don’t know. I think drag is a strange, for a genderqueer culture.. I think yes, it can be satirical or social commentary but it’s also the intersection being trans and in some form of drag is high. I know of several drag queens who are on estrogen and who live their lives as women but still identify as drag queens. And I’m on hormones, live as male, and I identify as a drag king. At what point does it stop being performance and start being who you are? And I don’t really know what that intersection is.

Interview with Caroline

LD: How do you identify (sex, race, gender, ability etc.), if at all?

C: My identifiers and qualifiers often change upon the audience or interaction. When I am by myself, I feel utterly neutral, like a jellyfish out of water. I recognize my whiteness—my Western-Euro-mutt American whiteness. My Southerness. My sexuality—hungry, but also working through some heavy digestion! My able-bodiedness more and more amplified but for years it was an invisible force, granting me privileges that I didn’t even mark as such. I have recently adopted the pronound “they” in addition to “she” and “her”; I think this mostly has to do with my increase in developing my identity as a writer. In that space I am de-sexed, all-encompassing gender. I also have been trying to embrace a masculine self, forgotten so long ago.



LD: What does drag mean to you?

C: Drag to me is a playful, solemn, ceremonial extension of gender performance. A way to emphasize or deemphasize some gender roles, but often drag extends out from gender. I think it is performative but I cannot deny the immense sacred place it is for some people, though I myself am not currently in that space.



LD: Why do you perform/present in drag?

I think my drag is hyperfemininity. Femme, cleanliness, curvaceous beauty is my drag. It is a way of contrasting my intensely filthy, radical nature, a nature that wholly survives based on intelligence, with a femme self. This femme self is powerful, and for now, she works for me.



LD: What has been you experience of performing/presenting in drag in Asheville?

C: I have no idea where to start on this question… Asheville is far too divided in my experience: as my hometown and as my student-queer-activist turf. In Asheville my home, I feel skinned down and sore, but also untouchable, in my femme “drag;” in Asheville my turf, I feel too familiarized and almost stuck.



LD: Does drag inform/relate to your gender identity?

C: I was a very fat, lonely, imaginative child with a deflated sense of self-esteem in regard to my appearance. When I was introduced to the notion that big, (white) curvy women could induce male attention by emphasizing their classic (white) femininity, that became my mode. Now I love it—I do, and if no one believes me they should see the way I check myself out in my home before I go out--but then, at a younger age, it was a farce. I wanted to believe someone someday would possibly desire me—I was relentlessly sexual in my own self and my head but no one wanted me. I felt I “failed” as a girl. No willowy, slender, nymphet sexual awakening for me. I feel drag, whether the “drag” of me that pulls on a tight skirt and heels, or the drag that performs in front of an audience is directly associated with the disjunct in my feminine performance. I was always drawn to masculine power, androgynous looks—I identified with boy characters and boy pastimes, but felt with my body (fat, soft, round, and so, so, so white) I could never achieve it. I had to do a 180. In that hyperfemme self I am rediscovering my androgyny—my fierce, but prematurely neutered, warrior male self.

Interview with Camille aka Dimitri Savage

Dimitri Savage and Camille

LD: 4/6/11 8:36pm

LD: How do you identify?

C: I identify as... I used to call myself... do you mean sexual orientation?

LD: Any kind of words you use to identify yourself.

C: Femme, gay, queer. I usually tag Femme in there.

LD: Could you tell me what drag means to you?

C: What drag means to me.. [sighs]... it means a slew of things.. I can tell you when I started doing it.. I kinda just started doing it as a joke, for fun. And it actually came to mean alot more than that. Cuz drag for me became very personal and because I was able to inhibit a chracter I figured was nothing like me in a lot of ways because the character I was creating was basically male--I’ve got some sidenotes on that-- someone who is very confidant. Someone who forced a presence around people. And normally I feel like I live more quietly than that. Um. But drag in a less personal sense I feel is something that is really damned necessary. Um.. for people to experience, attempt, and support. So.. what does drag mean to me? It’s kind of like asking “what did I do last summer?” It’s like a little essay... You’ll have to help keep me on topic.

LD: You’ll keep yourself on topic. How you define drag?

C: I would probably define drag as an individual personally bending gender identity and I used to htink that it meant that a female bodied person when the complete opposite way and did something as masculine as possible and vice versa. And now I think it could be anything. Just like that one performance we just had where one person basically spun and reconstructed that feminine image again--”actually this is who I am and it’s sexy and interesting.” So I guess something like that it has a lot to do with.. it’s supposed to be acting--that’s a personal viewpoint--it’s performance of the loudest kind. It’s a question that is puzzling me. I knew coming into this that I would have to figure this out.

LD: Don’t worry! I’m still figuring it out too.

C: I guess to put it in a really personal light, drag has been a way to explore some really hidden thoughts, foggy sexual identities that I have. When I first came into it I wouldn’t have been able to tell you that I wanted to dress more androgynous to ever ever appear to be a man in any way. And when I perform drag I still don’t.. I really don’t want to be seen in a way that I really, legitimately look like a boy. And I can look like a boy, but I don’t want to look like a man. Or it’s all over the place, that’s why it’s so much fun. Sometimes I want to look like a gay boy and be seen as that. Because there is something in me that doesn’t want a character I make to have a penis.So that’s something for me that’s been interesting to think about. Personally when I’m performing I think of myself as someone who could have a penis. It’s really... so it has a lot to do with being attracted to women in the first place. They’re... I guess you kind of feel this phantom, I guess a lot of queer women have. There is, I think the sense of a phantom penis sometimes. Because you’re so used to.. You’re either a man or a woman; and man fucks like this, and woman gets fucked like this. So there might be some hidden thing within me that says.. that I would want to fuck a woman the way a man would--which is totally huge for me to admit in the first place. Because I have alot of fears, a lot of violence connected with that kind of intercourse. And so to be on stage and to kind of have that present is kind of exciting because it’s not actually there.

LD: This is great! [pause for phone call] Ok. We were still talking about what drag means to you. Do you want me to move on to the next question?

C: No, not really, cause I could keep rambling for a while. I have two directions I could go, and one of them and one of them, again, is highly personal. I don’t even have to go into how bizarre it could be in my brain--how bizarre it’s supposed to be a femme to elect on the occasion that she’s desperate enough to have something mechanical or physical in her body to masturbate look at pornography that’s actually between a heterosexual couple. I’ve been trying to think as to why I would watch that sort of thing because the male body doesn’t appeal to me at all I’m concentrating solely on the female form. There are times when I put myself in it, and I can see myself as the man, which is really interesting for me and hard to admit. And really there’s nothing to that other than that.. It doesn’t have to be this great big thing.. What I think is so great about drag in general is that we’re all young, our orientations are all over the fucking place, (pun intended) and it should be. The whole clawing for labels or some sort of consistency is becoming an old fashioned concept and I really like that. And so, for straight girls who identify as such to freak out about being attracted to women via pornography, but not really anywhere else in their lives, and for queer women to watch two men having sex and that way arouses them particularly. And it doesn’t really matter, just this... whole fluidity bubble that we’re all navigating through and everything. It can be personally perplexing, but I don’t think this anyone in this community would really judge anyone else for it. And so.. that in a way reminds me of drag. Cause how do you get through the layers of feminine, female bodied person dressed up as a masculine person--whether or not they’re trying to depict a male--you know who in the audience is being aroused by it? Who is thinking about it.. Who..? all of the layers of it. I that’s just completely joyous. I think that’s the best part of it. And for me I’ve take great pride--and I hope it’s not of the arrogant flavor-- pride in being what I call a “femme king.” Really most of the time I’ll be in drag and I’ll be in drag for a couple hours, and I kid you not, I want to get out of it pretty soon. Even if there’s a dance party afterward and I’ll stick around. Really, I get sick of the baggy pants, and Camille wants to put on some lace again. Some lace and some eyeshadow and whatnot. Just shake it off--cause that’s not really... no one would expect for me as a boy but it’s not really what I want my gender presentation to be. I think it should be played with, all the time. But it’s also a challenge for me because when I’m walking around like that, as Dimitri Savage, I don’t really feel all that attractive. Not body-wise anyway. I can take pictures in the mirror and still feel my feminine face in it. I love doing the transformation. Creating myself in that image and choosing a sexy little boy name to do it in, you know? And to bring out the confidence in that other self, not necessarily the boy self.

LD: I think you’ve already started to answer this. What has been your experience performing/presenting in Asheville?

C: Hm. It has been a hell of a lot of fun. Started off as a complete accident, in a really emotionally... wild time in my life I decided get on stage to do it. To see if I could, or because.. I’m so into musicals and drama in general, performing in front of a mirror, dancing alone in a room, who wouldn’t want to kind of try it? And I thought that maybe I would be able to pull it off in some sense-- at least in the entertaining aspect not in the convincing aspect. Because I was actually a femme role in a couple of drag performances, and I really enjoyed it. I always really wanted to be  involved because I wanted to support the women who were doing it. And..

LD: Could you tell me more about that? I didn’t know you did any femme roles?

C: Yeah. Some students and I did Highschool Musical at the Warren Wilson Drag Show and at Ibeza. And it was just alot of fun.

LD: What character were you?

C: Oh, I was just all of the female characters’ lines within it. And it was the first time I cut my hair short too. The gayness... it was just leaking out. [chuckles]

LD: How did it feel with the short hair and the femme roles? Did that feel like drag for you?

C: It felt like.. I wondered if people would judge me because I wasn’t a boy in drag, like the opposite always had to be what was on stage. But I felt like I was still representing something within the queer community. I felt like was representing a femme figure in it.. And I see alot of that you know, with Tony Bravo’s femme bodied, beautiful woman on stage, strutting her stuff, I don’t think twice whether or not she should be up there because it’s “drag performance.” I’m really supportive of her and any connection she might have to the performer, whether it’s sexual or not. She’s doing something that’s part of a drag performance so.. I feel like she’s in it.. but my experience in Asheville, it’s been pretty nerve-wracking actually. I lack alot of confidence to begin with, and I put a lot of effort into it. Alot of times in clubs and such, things just don’t go as planned. Music might get screwed up or people may start the song too soon or something like that. But for the most part, people have been incredibly validating and supportive. And to still hear of this ghost fan club that I might have at UNCA somewhere.. It cracks me up.

LD: They’re shy! They talk about you all of the time. They always ask when you’re performing next! [both laugh]

C: Always being asked to be part of events, getting a very small reputation for myself, is incredibly validating in doing that at least. Who wouldn’t like being validated as an entertainer, whatever form that takes? If I’m speaking to a younger crowd, with the pop music and the corniness--cause I don’t consider myself a straight up sexy performer--then that’s fabulous. But I don’t know. I guess my favorite experience had to be at Stonewall, I think simply because it was a stage, a real stage. And I have alot of snooty opinions about performances, drag queens and kings I’ve seen in the past. To me, what qualifies as a performance doesn’t necessarily mean spending over 30 seconds in a three minute song grinding up on people in the audience. You know, there’s the freedom to do that, you get money from it [laughs] for one which is fantastic. But maybe I’m what you’d call a conservative drag king, and maybe you can lump that in for me. I’m still growing up, I only came out as a feminist a couple of years ago. I’m branching out. I have alot views on modesty. And it’s funny to have views on modesty in performing drag, because whether or not you like it, you’re kind of a sexual figure. You’re sexualized up there. I think.. It doesn’t bother me to be sexualized, but I take my performance so seriously, that I don’t necessarily want to be forced away from it to do something else just because someone in the audience decides they want to be a part of it for half a second. Friends, everything else, it’s great. I love taking moments for them. Strangers who might cross boundaries, that’s not something I’m interested in. I don’t have any harassing moments or stories, the only thing I can even get close to was just a female approaching me with a dollar bill stuck in between her breasts. And, in hindsight, it’s amusing. It’s loud and gaudy and whatever, but the persona that I want to have as Dimitri Savage? Not really into that kind of thing. So I just plucked the dollar out, rather that biting with my teeth or whatever she wanted me to do. So those are my complaints for performing in club spaces when people are drunk.. it’s just going to happen for a performer. I don’t expect for everyone to sit down and be silent. I don’t expect people to be half as attentive as they are at the drag ball, but [sighs] when you work so hard, you do want people to pay attention. But to bring it back around, mainly, it’s been great. And people have been really supportive. I hope to do more with it actually. I really, especially because of financial restraints, I kinda want to just go out there and ask Hairspray if I can do something. Not just “do something” necessarily.. I don’t think I deserve it, but to try at more amateur nights. Why not? If I get seven dollars within a span of three minutes, you know that’s a little less than what I make in an hour. You know frying tortilla chips.. Is there anywhere else you want me to go with that?

LD: No. No, does drag inform or relate to gender identity? You’ve already touched on this a bit.

C: I think it’s informing constantly in ways I didn’t anticipate. And, it doesn’t have to be one way or the other--femme or androgynous or something--it can be whatever you want. It’s driven me to be a little less femme on days when I feel that pull to do it. And alot of that has to do with fashion for me. I spend alot of time on queer blogs, and there’s this entire revolution that’s happening of the “tomboy femme.”

LD: I haven’t heard about it, could you tell me more?

Dimitri as Artie

C: There’s alot on tumblr and things like that. It just includes someone, just playing with gender in small, small ways that are exciting in the fashion world and have always existed in the fashion world, but are slowly creeping in to the mainstream. Especially in fashion, whether or not you’re queer. So you can still wear a lacy, frilly top but have suspenders on with it. It’s something really basic but, to me, if I do something with that then I feel like I’m attempting to proclaim my sexuality in some sense. Because in some sense, if you’re single and walking around, you might want to be a little visible, and I think it makes it easier in a lot of ways.. Anyway I think it’s informing me because up to the sixth grade I was wearing only nike t-shirts and big baggy pants, sneakers, and I was refusing to do alot of girly things. I’m not really sure when I got alot more feminine. Especially looking at pictures of myself when I was a kid, I wasn’t really.. I got kind of made fun of. People told me that I didn’t look like a girl. There was a natural androgyny to my face and my appearance at that point. I was kind of skinny. Still don’t really have large breasts. And, I don’t know if somewhere along the way, I tried to make up for that lack of femininity by being very feminine. And so, I don’t think it actually means I want to be an androgynous character. But as I was informed by my last longtime girlfriend, she said some part of my appeal, whether it made me comfortable or not, was that I was sort of androgynous to her. Which at the time kind of offended me. Because I didn’t want to be seen as trying to be anyone else. I wanted to be celebrated for being feminine. But now I think it’s informing me by letting me accept it more. And to play with it a little more. And giving me the power to be, attempting to quote something I just read, “a femme person who can still get down and dirty with the boys and not be scared and still speak up for herself.” And a lot of that shit comes out at work too. I only work with one other girl, pretty much at a given time. She’s a fellow queer, with a boyfriend, and I’ve also started to complain “Why do we never hire girls here?” And she said, “Most of the time, girls are bitches. And they can’t handle this shit.” And I trust her opinion. It sounds really stereotyped and awful but I kinda realized that she was right and that there are alot of emotional situations at work, she migh tnot be able to handle I guess. I don’t know if it’s something as stupid like getting food all over you or yelling loudly that you need something. I don’t know what I’m talking about really.There’s something in that. There’s a whole lotta guys and I’m the little girl cashier. I’m turning around to fry some chips and someone takes the register, I get pissed. Even if they’re helping out, I don’t want to be the only girl visible on the line that’s in the back where she doesn’t have to talk. I guess there’s something in that; if I happen to look more feminine that day, wearing red dangly earrings and workin at Moe’s, I don’t want to be the token “little girl.”

LD: How does drag relate to your experience with gender norms and stereotypes, especially masculinity?

C:..Depends on what I’ve witnessed.. unfortunately it’s the negative that’s popping into my head right now.

LD: Do you want to skip the question?

C: I think I need to break it down into two questions.

LD: Whatever you need. How does drag relate to your experience with gender norms?

C: I was already rambling about, the really dolled up version of either, the hyper masculine and hyper feminine. I think what’s driving me crazy is that I don’t know how to answer it specifically. Drag, as it’s supposed to, blows it all out of the water. And puts it all like little specks on the wall and you can never put it together into one thing. You can never put gender norms back together like one big puzzle. It’s just a.. I guess that’s where it comes from--fluid? It’s just like a mass of something and you can throw off a piece “That means something.” Take off another piece and it means something different... I have no idea what to say except that doing drag and being a part of it, it does what it’s supposed to, and then it obliterates it and redefines it..

LD: Awesome. I know the answer to this one, but.. Do you have a drag persona? If so, how do you come up with your characters?

C: [laughs] Accidentally named Savage, from Savage Garden, decided to take one of my favorite male names, Dimitri, which I think encompasses the gentleman of my character. Dimitri is a little bit dark, a bit foreign, poetic, gentlemanlike, otherwordly, and probably have amazing diction if I had my choice, but to put Savage with it is the other part. Savage is supposed to be the.. not “rip my shirt off” but “unbutton my shirt” [LD laughs] thing. My hair, grab it a bit. Bring out some part of myself that’s not seen sexually or socially at all. That’s what that’s supposed to be that’s why I like those two names together so much. And to just say the word “savage” makes you grit your teeth. Your thighs might sweat a little bit. Who doesn’t want to bring that out in people too? I guess I kinda want to be that. I want to be Mr. Darcy. Because Mr. Darcy is fuckin sexy [both laugh], but he’s also a gentleman. [both laughs] So the character I create is supposed to be a good mix of all of that. And even in my feminine self, it’s all there. Especially sexually, because I want courtship, but I also want to be pressed to a wall. That’s still not something I’ve gotten close to because I’m still growing up and learning how to be comfortable with myself, let alone other people. Also my persona is really purposefully corny in alot of ways. For fuck’s sake I did a Glee number. I always want to do something that’s a little poppy and a little happy. Something really catchy. Because in my musical love, that’s something that’s always been there. So you probably won’t ever catch Dimitri Savage doing a super dirty rap song. I want to pursue something a little more light-hearted--that’s important to me too. I also want to be in a boy band. That’s totally what that is.

LD: Where else do you do drag? Is it limited to the stage?

C:.. Yes, it has been limited to the stage, but--like I said--it has been informing me and changing my fashion a bit. I think on the dance floor--even though I’m wearing feminine clothing--that masculine dance that I have comes out. And maybe the way I was dancing before wasn’t “feminine” anyway. I think that is happening a bit. A current, potential partner of mine spun me around, and I was in front of her. It made me a bit uncomfortable. In that case I would prefer to be the “aggressor.” That’s a really interesting thing for me to admit. I do drag in my head a bit. Sometimes when I’m in front of a bunch of dudes or in public. I don’t think this is some weird insecurity thing, or some queer blindness that I could have but I really do forget that men could be attracted to me. Unless it’s a gay guy, “I love you! You’re so sexy.” [LD laughs] I forget about it until I’m in a situation.. I try to bring out that personality more. And that happens when I’m cashiering too. We get alot of construction workers and stuff like that, and I’ll have on a sideways cap. I try to talk to people on that masculine level to give off that indication this is not flirtation. This is a buddiness that I’m trying to achieve. I feel that if I was in drag that would come off too.

LD: So do you do drag at work?

C: Sometimes, yeah. A little bit. I lose track of what I appear like to people all the time but.. Sometimes I do feel like I’m one of the dudes. Hangin out with the dudes breaks that. For instance a manager made a comment, jokingly, that he’s a man who enjoys large butts or something and he mentioned mine at one point. Which is totally borderline sexual harassment, but this guy is a goof. But that shattered the world around me for a while. Because, once again, I had forgotten that that could happen. And I thought that I never gave off “that...”

LD: You’ve answered all of my questions. Is there anything else you’d like to share about your experiences with drag?

C: .. All I can say is that it’s so bloody fun. It’s given all of those teenage years doing the “drama hand.” Performing stuff already.. it’s given me the opportunity.. [laughs] I don’t know. I’m not necessarily a singer. I’m not a dancer. This gives me the opportunity to do something that is, so I hear, still pretty entertaining to watch. It’s highly entertaining to do. I like trying to figure out how to make these performances into something that.. and maybe I can only say this for the last performance... had chapters and movement. I portrayed three very different male characters.

LD: COuld you tell me a bit more about that performance, from conception to performance?

C: Those three different characters are really important, well maybe only two. But I felt that it was really interesting to drag acting within drag. I was Dimitri, but I was also a disabled heterosexual feller. And then stand up, twirl around, and then I’m a homosexual, flamboyant character--which was actually the hardest. And then the third doesn’t really count--just a sexy teacher. But to me the sexy teacher was the most confident of all, and that’s why I chose it as an ending piece. So I kinda swirled though those different chapters--costume changes help of course. But being three different guys, as a guy, as Dimitri: that was really.. that was fun to do. I kid you not doing Kurt was so hard!

LD: Tell me what was so hard.

C: It was.. I didn’t know how.. It was interesting to be a girl in drag; I didn’t feel like I could be “pretty” enough. I already had sideburns and a clean face; I didn’t have the swoop of hair he has, but that was the most aware of my body not matching. I can be kindof a guy and force that out by wearing baggy pants to hide curves and other things, but to portray a gay man was really hard. He’s my favorite character, so I really wanted to do it. And I tried to kind of mimic his mouth and to really launch into that thing that he does... But I didn’t quite get there. Of course there were those other reasons.. using the song as a vehicle to talk about my actual hatred of my father right now. I wish I could do that with Dimitri too. I wish I could portray the gay boy.

LD: Do you think Dimitri has that possibility?

C: I don’t because of my body.. I think, and I know this is a total stereotype, that the Kurt form of the gay boy--which is stereotypical in many ways: well-dressed, skinny, tightly clothed kind of way. I really don’t think so. I don’t think I can convince people. I think I’m better off spreadin my legs a little and like doing something a little more Mac Daddyish. It’s more of a challenge but I might think of it more in the future. Like Adam Lambert or something.

LD: Oh my gosh! That would be wonderful [both laugh].

C: It started off as an accident and an experiment, but now I’m completely in love with it. I hope I do it for as long as possible.

Conversation with RJ and Aidan on Identity Politics

RJ: To do drag, is not to be a drag queen. To do it one time doesn’t necessarily mean I’m stuck with this.. stigma. What I do doesn’t necessarily define my identity. Because I wear these clothes doesn’t define my identity. You know what I’m saying?

A: Yeah.

RJ: You’re identity, I think, is defined internally. And once you get that down, people will figure it out. People will understand it. The drag world is perceived that… and the femme worlds.. all these worlds and people feel that they have to fit into a mold in order to have an identity. And no, you fucking don’t!

A: What I think is fucked up about identity politics and claiming an identity is saying I agree to all of these things. I claim the identity of Christianity. I am not, for instance, Westborro Baptist. Like that is not my idea of Christianity, but we fall under the same umbrella. And so, I think we take different parts of different identities that mean something to us, but then we have to explain: like “Oh, I’m Christian, but it means this. I’m queer and it means this. There are so many facets to people, like I am FTM, but I’m also a drag king. And now, apparently, sometimes a drag queen [all laugh]. I mean, but like [laughing] that’s only one part of me. And then being trans is another part. And being queer is another part, and it’s like assimilating to some identities, making me one-dimensional or not.

LD: For me, it’s very existentialist. How you perceive yourself, and also how’re you’re perceived and informed. Because part of choosing that language is to be understood. And that’s hard. It’s hard to consolidate those parts of yourself. You have to recognize that you may be misconstrued or misperceived by the words that you choose. Also, reclaiming words—like calling myself a “faggot”—would mean something to certain people and something else to others. But it still would be damaging and dangerous for me if someone else called me faggot.

A: Yeah, like my godmother and I used to fight, because of our generations, reclaiming the word queer. And she’s like “I almost died over that word.” Like “That word is not a good word.” And now, you know, if you want to take it into a different context, of like race, and saying “nigger” means something to a certain age group of African Americans and it means something different to another age group. And reclaiming words isn’t necessarily… it’s something controversial to do. And most of the things that happen in my internal mind, when I’m sitting around thinking, is re-define words. My definition of Christian, queer, and trans is very different than yours may be. So when I claim an identity, I also have to say “But it doesn’t mean this; it means this.” That’s why I fucking hate identity sometimes.

LD: So much is lost in translation.

RJ: Right. And it’s such a personal thing. Cause identity, like you said, you take little pieces from lots of different things. And when I was asked in this interview “What do you identify as?” I still don’t know if I answered the question. I’m not sure I did.

LD: No, you did. You said “gay male”

RJ: Well, I mean, that’s not me.

LD: That’s not all of you.

RJ: Yeah, and that’s the thing I fight consistently. If you’ve ever seen Broken Hearts Club, the one thing I’m terrified of is what he says: “I’m thirty years old, and the only thing I’m good at is being gay.” Trying to figure out the rest of me. That’s terrified me ever since I heard it. I’m like “Yeah, that’s exactly it.” I’m always so worried. I read Judy Carter’s Homo Handbook when I was young and took it very seriously.

A: I read Stone Butch Blues when I was 11.

RJ: [laughs] Yeah, and the last chapter is “Become an Activist,” and I have! I’ve created an activist organization that’s still thriving and working well. I think I’m getting involved with them again, which is very fun. I’m involved now, and I’ve never stopped. But I stopped being the co-founder and being an active leader in it. I think I’m going to start back up, cause they asked me to.

(Conversation moves to school and photography..)

Interview with RJ a.k.a. Showpheelia Velvet Johnson

4/6 1:50 pm

LD: How do you identify?

RJ: I guess I identify as a gay male. I guess that’s it. As gay

LD: Ok. What does drag mean to you?

RJ. What is drag? Now this is interesting. Now, this needs a little back-story. I have.. I was caught putting on girls’ clothes by my mom when I was like 12.

LD: Oh really? (laughs)

RJ: Yeah. She’s trying to find a picture of then. But.. um. I’ve obviously had an interest in it for a while. I’ve never actually done drag professionally. I’ve only done it for events, moments when getting away with being a girl was ok in high school. Pretty much every chance I got with that. That was always really fun. I’ve always enjoyed that. For me, so far, it’s kind of an outlet and a way to be to add… to another faction of my personality out there, you know what I mean? And maybe just bring part of it out. I’m not… I haven’t been freely doing drag; I’ve just been doing it for a few things, like I said, so far it’s been a really great experience to just… There’s something about it, there’s a power that comes with it. It’s odd. It’s difficult to explain, but it’s powerful. And it makes me feel stronger and more whole as a person oddly.

LD: How did your mom respond?

RJ: She responded.. At first she seemed hesitant like “Oh no! He’s going to be a part of this world” you know, very similar to this typical mom “Oh you’re coming out. You’re going to get exposed to all of these things. You know--same thing. So she had a few reservations in the beginning. Oh my goodness.. But she’s just like the mom on Queer As Folk.

LD: Aw! Debbie?

RJ: Debbie! She’s so Debbie. Absolutely Debbie. [LD laughs] She’s the biggest cheerleader. She’s always there at pride events. She’s wonderful.

LD: We should get our moms together. [laughs]

RJ: Heck yeah, we should! That would be awesome. But in the beginning she was hesitant about me getting into the world. You’re going into a queer world, you need to think about these things. And I was like, “I’m just doing a few fundraisers. It’s no big deal.” But once she saw me do it and saw the recordings of everything, she was amazed and said “You’ve got to do this more often!” [laughs] “You really shine.” She was like “A part of you comes out.” And I’ve done a lot of theater and things, but this is different. This is me playing me, but only in a different role.

LD: Yeah..

RJ: Not playing somebody else. She was thrilled after a moment. She’s a religious Ru Paul Drag Race watcher. We went and saw it; she was lovin’ all over Alexis Mateo. Alexis was like “Hey. Want to go get a cigarette? Let’s go outside and talk.” They were best buddies [laughs]! It was hilarious. But yeah. She’s extremely supportive. And hoping I do more!

LD: So how do you define drag?

RJ: Um… Right now.. I would define it as an experimentation. As an outlet. As another way to express myself. I guess that’s a really great way to put it. It’s.. um.. I don’t know. It just kinda.. . It’s been extremely freeing and liberating. I don’t consider myself identifying as a drag queen, but I strive to uphold their honor, if you will [both laugh]. I don’t want to disrespect because I’m not a proclaimed drag queen. I did it right though. I have a drag mother.

LD: Oh, you do? Who’s your drag mother?

RJ: Manhattan.

LD: Ok! I know Manhattan! Wow.

RJ: She was the reason I looked so amazing at Drag Ball.

LD: You looked incredible. How long did it take?

RJ: That was like an hour and a half. He’s amazing. I told him “You should do this professionally.” He’s good. He’s like “I’ve got too many kids!” Drag mommy “I have too many kids” He’s hoping I do this more often. I was asked by Hairspray, the talent show at Scandals, I was asked to go to Knoxville. Two clubs in Knoxville want me to come. [Responding to my jaw drop] I know! For real..

LD: Are they going to pay you?

RJ: Oh yeah! They want me to come and do shows. And yeah, Hairspray wanted to put me on for their cast price. Oh my gosh, so for every show I’d get money. That’s really odd. Because in the beginning, it was the JustUs for All fundraiser, and I was like “Let’s do this right. Let’s have fun.” And that was me not taking it seriously. And the video changed everything. It was the way the crowd responded to me. It was that insane like “Ahhhhhh! Oh my god!” That was so cool. Direct quote: That was so cool. [Laughs]

LD: Ok, that leads me to my next question: Why do you perform/present in drag?

RJ: So far, started with the fundraiser. Then I was asked to emcee/cohost Drag Ball. Cause fabulous Cristina was with me. That was awesome. And so far, it’s just been because people have asked me to. And because I’ve been good at it, or people assumed I would be good at it. It was just.. asked of me. Now it’s being put in my hands “Ok. You’re good. People want you to do it. Now it’s my decision if I want to do it. It’s a transitional moment. Because I feel that once you become a drag queen, if I ever did a show, I would be one. So far, I have performed, but it’s only been for fundraisers and those kind of things. I don’t think I’m a full-fledged queen yet. I’m just a princess. [Both laugh]

LD: Well you’ve already answered how drag has been for you here in Asheville. So how does drag relate to your gender identity, if at all?

RJ: … [Sighs] Define gender identity for me quickly. Cause I’m one of those people who doesn’t know terminology very well, and I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.

LD. Ok. Sure. I, for me, gender is different from sex—like biological sex—not genitalia but how you present yourself in the world. And we of course present ourselves circumstantially. So I may, at school and other parts of my life, present myself as very genderqueer or transmasculine. M y gender presentation is transmasculine or genderqueer. So transgender would be my gender identity while queer would be my sexuality. So that’s the difference between sexuality and gender, and I’m female-bodied, so sex and gender. Does that make sense?

RJ: Mhmm… Yeah that does.

LD: Ok! Great. That was a lot. So how does drag relate to your gender identity?

RJ. Hmm.. They’re one and the same for me. They’re not very far off from each other. I consider myself.. Gender identity, I identify as.. masculine. However I’m a very effeminate. I consider myself very androgynous I don’t think I.. I think that I look like a boy, but I don’t think I necessarily always look like a boy. Looks aren’t even it at all. The way, in my head, I don’t think it really even matters. But um. I think you just are who you are. But I guess I would identify as masculine. And.. I’ve never put really much thought into it. I’ve always just been free flowing. When it comes to drag coming into it, there was a moment when I figured that effemininity would explode and it kinda did. It kinda did for a minute especially for drag ball. I’m like “make me really pretty. I don’t want to look like a drag queen with horrible eyebrows, look like this crazy, really intense clown. I just want to look really beautiful. What’s really crazy is people tell me consistently how everyone tells me how beautiful I was then. Please tell me I look beautiful as a boy sometimes.

LD: [laughs]I think you’re beautiful as a boy.

RJ: Thank you! I think you are too. [both laugh] When it comes down to gender. I just never really thought about it. I’ve really just always been who I am. I wonder if I really will ever think about it. Cause I think that’s more of what you’d answer if you’ve ever asked about it. And if I was ever asked about I’d think does that even matter? I’d be like “What do you think?” [laughs] Make your own opinion. I don’t have one. If it’s important to you, it is you know.

LD: Do you have a drag persona?

RJ: I do. Yeah, I do. And it’s being changed because I’ve been told by my drag momma that that can’t stay. Now that I’m making it more official. My original name was Showpheelia Velvet [both laugh] I take more of the comedy queen approach because I don’t necessarily take it seriously other than my look and then once I do it then it’s like “Hey!” you know. I don’t want to be the typical “Bitch! What? Please!” You know “gurl” “gurrrl” you know? I don’t want to.. I like to be the scathing wit.

LD: [laughs] And you were!

RJ: I think I pulled that off. [laughs] And I was nervous in the beginning. Then I realized “Quit being someone else. Just be you.” I forgot what I was wearing. It wasn’t even important. You know, you’re up here. Do it! Add some jokes in. Talk about your wig. You know like, whatever.

LD: I can’t tell you how fabulous you were.

RJ: … (talking about pulling me up on stage. Bookish types and men in leather jackets)

Showpheelia Velvet became Showpheelia Johnson, because it needed to get more risque for more comedic effect. It was more for the persona I was playing. It gives a name to it “What is you name? I couldn’t be like “RJ. What?” you know, like what are you talking about. [both laugh] So that was more for the comedic persona to come up with the name for me to assign to that. To just be hilarious. To be scathing and mean but funny mean. I don’t think I was ever really rude. I don’t want to be rude to people. But I definitely wanted to push an envelope. And that can tend to rub people, that’s what I meant. Kindof make people go “Whoa!”

LD: Tell me how you spell Showpheelia

RJ: It is, I need to write it down! S-H-O-W-P-H-E-E-L-I-A J-O-H-N-S-O-N

LD: [laughs] That’s wonderful.

RJ: I guess Velvet is my middle name. Manhatten will come up with something else.

LD: So Showpheelia is in transition?

RJ: Exactly. In the drag world, to become official, your drag mother names you. Manhatten only has one name, and usually they have two, Showpheelia Velvet. The first outfit and wig and everything were given to me by Divonna Ivy Velvet, and her last name.. That’s how you’re supposed to work it, usually. But usually your drag mother names you, and they’ll normally put their last name on you. But Manhatten does not have one, so.. She’s been thinkin’ of something. I’m like “Oh, please be nice.” [laughs] Pick something I can live with. [LD laughs] No Britney. I don’t want to Britney, because any time I wear a blonde wig, I’ll be Britney Spears. I’m like “Don’t do it to me!” [Both laugh]

LD: So none of the single names, like Madonna..

RJ: Oh, a single name would be great; I love single names. Like the artist formally known as Prince.

LD: Thank you! I think you’ve answered all of my questions.

From the Conversation Afterward:

RJ is a student studying cosmetology. No plans yet for drag, maybe talent show in the fall. Do plan on coming out again. Can’t separate it from you. Don’t want to be the drag queen hairdresser. Ok with being the gay hairdresser. Still camp it up as a hairdresser. Hopes to head toward television. Overseas subsidiary like Paul Mitchell. Wants to be a platform artist in Milan in the next four years. 

RJ: (Talking about drag and future with career) This will just be something I pull out. I didn’t have to be in drag. I didn’t tell anyone about Drag Ball, I was just asked because of personality I guess. I’m going to do this again because it was fun. Because last time I was wearing a magenta wig, you know? I want to take it seriously this time. I want to really pull this out. Doing Gaga’s “Born This Way..” I called the day before and said “I haven’t even told you my song yet. I don’t care if anyone else has it: it’s mine. “ [both laugh] For Drag Ball, it’s the perfect message! And when C. burst out [sings] “No matter gay. Straight, or bi, lesbian, transgender life” I was like “I love you!” [both laugh] I was just like “You have to rock it out, C.!” It was amazing. I was like “You and I are going to do a number together, because you’re not a drag queen.” I’m like “I’m in drag right now, but you are not. So it would be silly for you to do your own number. Do one with me, and we’ll introduce the show. We were both just jumping up and down when we figured it out. And like “We’re going to do it!” Like two hours before.

LD. Ya’ll were so awesome.

RJ: We had great chemistry. I hope to work with C. and a lot more things in the future.

(Talking about Drag Ball performances, Brian and Amanda, Hot Hot Mexicans, Dimitri Savage.)



RJ: I think that being a drag queen is a dedication. Even for a short time, it’s a dedication for me. I was sunburnt for that show. I had to Nair my chest over sunburn. I was peeling. I had to wash my body in apple cider vinegar before the show. I was burnt to a crisp on my stomach still. If you look at pictures, and don’t you dare look at pictures, you’ll see it. My chest in the center is very very red. But it looks kinda like cleavage so we left it. {laughs] It worked out. My blotchy scarring worked out.

(Talking about skin and sunburn remedies. Nairing off nipples. Ouch!)

It’s dedication. Being a drag queen is hard hard work. I’ve only done it a few times, but I have immense respect for these women because they’re getting out there, and the look amazing. But you don’t look amazing without a ton of work and planning. The outfit changes, the expectations of drag queens are extremely high. You just don’t walk out there and half ass it. I feel like.. to professional drag queens to, to ones who take it seriously, to dress as a woman—to be a drag queen not just to dress as a woman, there’s a difference. To parade as a woman, even for an evening, you need to respect the professionals, the ones who’ve gone before you. I feel like it’s an issue of… holding a candle to it. Got to keep that standard, because they’ve worked hard. Especially for one night, you don’t want to go out there and, possibly, make them look bad. You’re representing all of them. I feel that way, but I feel that way about everything. I mean, people view me as a gay man. How am I representing a positive image to the world? People have used the phrase “You are the coolest gay guy I’ve ever met” so many times. And I like that. I feel like I’m removing a prejudice that may have occurred with a gay man, especially a first time experience, who was not… or who was rude… or doing something to make them feel horribly uncomfortable. Not representing that well. You don’t have to be always on point. Shit, I have my bad days.. But if you are on stage as a drag queen, you’re being viewed as a drag queen, you should uphold a standard.

LD: Is it intimidating to hold up to that standard and honor all of those who have gone before you?

It’s intimidating, but not undoable, obviously. You just got to have people--I had a team of people working on me. I had hair, face, I had the Costume Shoppe giving me all of my dresses and shoes, I had pantyhose, I had drag queens I could call and as “What do I do?” [laughs] I don’t think you would ever just put on a dress and go up on stage.

That night was potentially going to be difficult for me. I was really nervous about some people and I might see there and some situations that night have gotten worse. That was a major influence to do drag. Because I knew I’d be stronger. Me personally. And I think anybody would be. Just going up there.. and just put on that shield. I don’t know how anyone messes with a drag queen. Geez, you got to be brave. It kind of immediately.. If you’re doing it right, people really respect you for it. As I believe they should. People should respect you for every choice you make, but it’s more apparent when you’re on stage. [laughs] It just has some power to it. And I knew I’d be stronger. I’d be able to face difficult situations that arise… from a more level plane. I felt powerless until I did that. And then I felt empowered and strong. Which is interesting because some people think you aren’t.

Drag and Praxis: Personal Narrative

Critical geography scholar, Sarah Wakefield defines praxis as the “melding of theory/reflection and practice/action as part of a conscious struggle to transform the world. Put simply, praxis is giving life to ideas about the way the world is—and could be—by acting on one’s convictions in daily (work and home) life.”[i] My praxis—the meeting of theory and action—of drag and masculinity manifests in two ways: my own performance and through my reflection of drag and masculinity in Asheville.

My conviction that old definitions of drag are insufficient results from my own personal experiences in the queer community, in college(s), and in Asheville. My experience with drag requires a bit of revisionist history on my part. As a child, I did not see dressing in any certain clothes as “drag.” But, through reflection (a dangerous activity: committing the intangibles of the past to the certitude of the written word) I have discovered my own gender experimentation and performance exhibited mostly through play. Through playing “dress up,” “house,” and—a favorite of my sister and mine—“The Wizard of Oz,” I was able to try on different genders and roles for a short time. I soon regulated myself to masculine roles in our play and experimented with what I determined masculinity to be (my masculine roles wore glitter, aprons, and pigtails). But I won’t dwell on the too-often-told stories of how children learn gender and especially the “correct” gender. I’d rather focus on how my gender nonconformance became personal and political choices.


Drag has long been a dream of mine. I played with gender-bending as a child, requesting un-ladylike short haircuts: secretly enjoying the thrill and outrage of being mistaken for a “boy.” I started experimenting with femme drag in high school as a social and academic experiment for my first college Women’s Studies course. The all-female class was asked to perform publically a stereotypically gendered task of the opposite sex and record/reflect on the public’s reactions. I chose to be high femme for a day, borrowing a femme friend’s clothes: high heels (which required walking lessons), a short dress, pearl necklace and earrings, straightened hair, body hair removal, and a rigorous amount of makeup. I was astonished by the different treatment and attention I received from others. I continued to play with femme and, what I called, “boi” drag for parties and my own pleasure through high school and into college.

As admirer of drag, I was inspired by drag’s many possibilities. Much more than mere male/female impersonation, I discovered that drag was subversive and often political, even if the performer’s goal was only to impersonate male/female realness while lip-synching to a song. Drag pushes the audience to confront any and all pre-conceived notions of gender, sex, sexuality, and desire. My first opportunity to perform on stage came with the Alliance Drag Ball. The obligation as organizer and group leader hurdled me over any reservations and into my first drag routine.

For the first show, a group of three friends and I decided to toy with the homoeroticism of 90s boy bands: thus the Dragstreet Bois were born. We choreographed a dance routine to the Backstreet Boys song “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back).” During the musical interlude, we illustrated the homoeroticism implicit in the boy-band competitions by kissing posters and magazine covers of rival band NSYNC. The group was such a success that the Dragstreet Bois performed again at the second drag show with NSYNC’s “Bye, Bye, Bye.” During the second show, I also collaborated with a friend to Ludacris and Shawna’s “What’s Your Fantasy.” In this number, I performed as Shawna: wearing a borrowed skin-tight leopard-print dress, black wig, and black high heels. As a transmasculine person, femme drag continues to push my comfort zone. I don’t often dance and eroticize my body in a traditionally feminine way. But switching rapidly from femme to boi drag was an incredible experience. Performing two drastically different personas required eroticizing my body in very different ways. Moreover, performing two roles really pushed me to reflect upon my own masculinity.

Masculinity deserves some investigation. My focus on masculinity in my research is the product of its invisibility and perceived naturalness. Often drag is perceived as limited to feminine attire. Femininity is commonly perceived as unnatural, forced for both male and female-bodied people. Masculinity, however, is perceived as natural to male-bodied people: its locus residing somewhere, mysteriously, within male genitalia. Transgender people, butch lesbians, and drag performers all contest the “naturalness” of masculinity to male bodies. My daily genderbending performance allows me to occupy the unmarked, liminal space between male and female. My transmasculinity affords me male privilege most of the time. I feel comfortable walking alone at night and rarely do I receive unwanted attention from men.

I’ve continued to perform outside of drag shows, including for a presentation of this project in September 2010. I wanted to queer the traditional practice and space of academic presentation and knowledge-making. I wanted to praxis. I opened my power point presentation with a rendition of Michael Jackson’s “Beat It.” Garbed in black jeans, leather jacket, and penciled facial hair, I danced between the aisles of desks, engaging the audience. Meanwhile, a slideshow of statistics of reported and “alleged” queer bashings in Asheville flashed behind me—the most recent having occurred only days before the presentation. I played with the hyper-masculinity and sexualized violence of “Beat It:” performing “Beat It” in its many connotations, from violence upon others, to masturbation, to fleeing. For me, drag is a vehicle for political expression, gender expression, and social commentary. Every time I listen to the radio, I wonder how I will do that number in drag.

My queer praxis is also a part of my reflection on drag and queering the definition of drag. The definition of drag is often dependent upon essentialized notions of binary gender, identity, and location. But I believe this definition has changed, grown, mutated, queered beyond these restraints. Past definitions of drag have placed a lot of emphasis on binary gender and the body. Traditional definitions of drag define it as the dualistic hypergendered performance (either hyperfeminine or masculine) by a person of the opposite sex. Yet, as the prevalence of transformative drag and “bio queens” (problematic term because of its emphasis on genitalia) denotes, drag performers have long been blurring the binaries of drag. The performer’s genitals do not dictate the possibilities of gendered performance. Like art, drag is defined as much by its audience as its artist/performer. A person doesn’t have to identify as a drag performer in order for their performance to be seen as drag. Yet, on the other hand, drag does not require an audience. The performer can be in drag without an audience, without the intention of being seen. Nor, I argue, does drag have to be limited by location. Drag is no longer limited to the stage or local gay bar. Drag, the hypergendered performance, can be seen everywhere from house parties, to concerts, political rallies, the bedroom, colleges, festivals, theaters, and (in Asheville particularly) every other person walking down the street.

In keeping with postmodern ethnographic and feminist methodologies, I situate myself within this body of work[ii]. As a white, transgender, middleclass, queer, TAB (temporarily able-bodied) person and amateur drag performer, my positionality and experiences directly inform the framework, scope, and perspective of this research. My experience as an “insider,” a member of both the queer and drag communities, allows me some privileges as well as some challenges. My insider status has provided me with known contacts, a foundation of trust and (perceived) common-experience within those communities. Yet that insider status poses some problems as well. My insider status may blind me to some observations and potentially prevent me from seeing key differences in experience. Moreover, my insider status may push me to portray my findings in an overly optimistic way or to omit less favorable findings out of group loyalty. By choosing to write about my own communities, I risk the possibility of losing friends and relationships.

Yet I take this risk believing that the experiences of these people are significant to the existing discourses of drag in feminist and queer theory. Therefore, modeling after black feminist theorist Pat Hill Collins and queer writer, performer, and activist Kate Bornstein, I consciously employ inclusive pronouns “we, us, our” to acknowledge my relationship of “insider status” to this community of drag performers and to juxtapose the voices of all kinds of drag performers—kings, queens, amateurs, and admirers[iii]. However distant and fractured our experiences may be from day to day, I believe that this inclusive language fosters a new, if limited, sense of community around our shared experiences with drag and performing masculinities. I understand that inclusive language always risks the possibility of erasure of individual difference of experience. But the language of previous studies in drag has employed very divisive language. These linguistic divisions (male/female; queen/king; masculine/feminine), I believe, have caused readers, theorists, and performers to ignore the common experiences between performers. The queer community’s most beautiful strength is its diversity. I believe that we can create a space and discourse for drag performers in queer and feminist theory that embraces the similarities and difference of experience. I’d like my praxis to contribute to that discourse.

Notes:

[i]Sarah E. L. Wakefield, “Reflective Action in the Academy: Exploring Praxis in Critical Geography using a ‘Food Movement’ Case Study” Antipode (Blackwell Publishing Ltd, 2007) 331.

[ii] Joey Sprague, “Qualitative Shifts: Feminist Strategies in Field Research and Interviewing,” Feminist Methodologies for Critical Researchers: Bridging Differences (Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press, 2005), 119-163.

[iii] Patricia Hill Collins, Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment (New York: Routledge, 2000). Kate Bornstein, Gender Outlaw: On Men, Women, and the Rest of Us (New York: Routledge, 1994).

Mustacheville: Drag and Masculinity in Asheville

Asheville has a large, vibrant queer community and is a destination spot for many queer-identified folk. Yet Asheville histories and historians never mention Asheville’s queerness except for broad allusions to the small city’s “progressiveness” and “diversity.” No history of Asheville’s lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, questioning, intersex, and allied (LGBTQQIA) community exists. As in many places with marginalized populations, proof of queer existence is collected through oral histories—stories passed on individuals within queer communities. While oral history is an important component of queer kinship systems, the absence of a written history delegitimizes and alienates queer peoples from each other, greater Asheville, mainstream cultures, and academia. Moreover, queer kinship relationships—often not biological but “chosen families”—inhibit the intergenerational sharing of oral histories so common among other minority communities. Without a collected history or intergenerational sharing of oral history, each generation of queer individuals is at risk of re-inventing the wheel.

As an active organizer and activist in the Asheville queer community, my observations of the drag scene over the last four years have been both occupational and social. My observation of drag sites has taken me from local gay (or queer-friendly) bars and clubs, to house parties, concerts, political rallies, colleges, festivals, and theatres. Knowledge of these events was informal, and often the occasions were not marketed as “drag” events.

The drag landscape is changing. Drag in Asheville requires observation beyond the bar scene to the many locations where gender-bending transpires. From Asheville advertising, to art, to political rallies, to festivals, to burlesque shows, the sites for drag are changing. Asheville is known for its eccentricities. Some of the city’s marketing capitalizes on the oddities—as evident with Asheville’s popular LaZoom Bus Tours, providing historical tours of Asheville “with a twist.”[i] The gilded purple bus visits Asheville’s hot spots with employees garbed in outrageous wigs and costumes—most notably a sharp-tongued, hairy-legged bicycling nun. Similarly, the Freaks of Asheville Calendar Project capitalizes upon the freak show appeal as a fundraiser for local nonprofit Art 2 People. Local artists and self-identified “freaks” reclaim the term once used derogatorily against gender non-conforming people by portraying and promoting Asheville’s artists. Political marches and rallies—such as the annual Stonewall Rally and “We Are Not Bashful” rally—are often peopled by folk in drag as a statement of visibility and solidarity on the street. Festivals, such as Lexington Avenue Arts and Fun Festival (LAAFF), brings Asheville freaks and civilians (Ashevillains) together in downtown for frivolity and elaborate gender-bending costumes. During this past LAAFF, performing masculinity became a guerrilla art movement through Mustacheville. Mustacheville was a facebook initiative in which Asheville peoples were encouraged to make and wear elaborate mustaches and plaster the town with false mustaches. House parties abound with drag-related themes, as indicated by “Multiple Choice Party” poster (Figure 1)[ii]. For this birthday party, guests were presented with three drag-themed apparels and encouraged to pick their favorite theme. These parties, festivals, rallies, and shows allow for Ashevillains to explore our genders express ourselves in new and exciting ways—even if for a short period of time.

Asheville burlesque troupes have become destinations for many transplant drag performers—such as some of the performers from the now-defunct drag king troupe, Ashevegas Outlaws. Burlesque shows often explore of gender-bending and desire. At the Seduction Sideshow performance at the summer Fetish Ball, drag king Tony Bravo (formerly of the Ashevegas Outlaws) and two of the voluptuous Sideshow ladies performed a very gender-bending number that challenged heterosexual role-play and the “naturalness” masculinity. Tony Bravo, sporting a black “wife beater” tank top, jeans, boots, and mustache is a manifestation of “the male gaze.” Initially watching the two women undulate and gyrate for the audience and himself, Bravo’s fantasies become fulfilled when the two women turn their attentions to him (and each other, at his behest). Yet the dream sours for Bravo when the women begin undressing him—putting his body on display for the audience. The two women then begin to dress him in lingerie: fishnet stockings, a bra, and a short lacy robe. After his initial, visible discomfort, Bravo begins to enjoy the garments and begins to undulate with the women—to the audience’s cheers and catcalls. This skit openly contests the heteronormative objectification of women by the omnipresent male gaze; the women have agency in the gender-stripping and re-sexualization of Bravo.

Drag shows have also become enormously popular on college campuses across the country. Last spring, UNCA’s Alliance, the student organization serving the LGBTQQIA communities on campus, hosted an American Idol-themed drag show. Students and community members competed, both as individuals and groups, to be UNCA’s Drag Idol. Students had the opportunity to perform as their favorite artists—some even singing and accompanying themselves instrumentally. Few of the student performers had performed in drag before. The show was also an opportunity for student performers to meet other amateur and professional drag performers in the Asheville community. The show was an incredible success: one of the most popular student productions that year. Student performers became local celebrities. Several have continued performing in the Asheville community. Several of the performers from the show are contributors to “Gen(d)eration XXX.” UNCA’s liberal arts education encourages students’ learning through “creative expression [and] co-curricular activities.”[iii] The drag show was, and will hopefully continue to be, a welcoming space for students to explore gender, identity, and self-expression. A study of drag sites raises many questions. Do new drag locations queer our definition of drag? How much does location define drag? Are gender-bending performances still “drag” outside of the gay bar and club? Is gender-bending performance of the burlesque troupe still drag? Do the performers have to be queer-identified in order to do drag? Does drag require conscious gender-bending or gendered role play? Can anyone do drag anytime?


Notes:

[i] LaZoom Bus Tours, http://www.lazoomtours.com/


[ii] Tuc Ker, “Multiple Choice Party” (poster, Asheville, NC, 2010).


[iii] “UNCA Mission Statement,” UNCA Course Catalog 2010-2011, 2010, http://catalog.unca.edu.