Late last month, I was surprised to wake up to a flurry of text messages: “Girl, you’re all over Congress!” As I opened link after link, I was met with a surreal array of photos showing Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene leading a DOGE subcommittee hearing, and to my surprise, behind her was an oversized portrait of me. I rolled my eyes and dreamed about going back to bed.
As a drag queen who reads and writes children’s books, this was certainly not the first time I have faced attacks, by politicians and otherwise. My books have been challenged and banned, events have been protested, and my name and likeness have been used in myriad disingenuous attempts to stoke fear about LGBTQ+ people, including by Secretary of State Marco Rubio. However, it was the first time that I had been directly referenced in the halls of Congress.
My first thought to myself was: At least she chose a gorgeous photo. Ironically, it was one of my own headshots depicting a friendly smile and red, white and blue sequin stars — a stark contrast to Greene’s own scowling face that dominated press photos of her testimony. My second: It’s funny that Greene and other MAGA Republicans have yet to learn that it’s a bad idea to pick a fight with a drag queen.
Still, Greene’s comments were no laughing matter: Given her long track record as a conspiracy theorist and anti-LGBTQ+ crusader, Greene unsurprisingly spread not only slanderous hate but also defamatory disinformation. She cited me as a reason to eradicate federal funding for PBS and NPR, contending that NPR and PBS “push some of the most radical left positions, like featuring a drag queen on the show Let’s Learn.”
She continued: “[A]s a mother who raised three children, I felt confident that I could leave the room while my own children were watching children’s programming on PBS. But … if I had walked in my living room or one of my children’s bedrooms and seen this child predator and this monster targeting my children, I would become unglued.”
Needless to say, her already highly unglued name-calling insinuates claims about me that are patently false. She is correct that I once appeared on the public television program “Let’s Learn,” reading my picture book “The Hips on the Drag Queen Go Swish, Swish, Swish” — a playful parody meant to encourage kids to express their inner fabulousness. But the reality, as PBS CEO Paula Kerger made clear, is that the show was produced by local affiliate WNET, not by PBS itself.
Additionally, her rhetoric suggesting that LGBTQ-affirmative media is a form of “sexualizing and grooming … brainwashing and transing children” is not only false, but offensive. As I noted in my initial response: This rerun is tired and boring. That is, it is part of a well-worn playbook that goes back decades, as exemplified by Anita Bryant’s “Save Our Children” campaign of the 1970s, and which has sadly been mainstreamed by Republicans in recent years.
In the hearing itself, several Democratic members of the committee playfully poked fun at Greene. Rep. Robert Garcia jokingly inquired: “The American people want to know: Is Elmo now, or has he ever been, a member of the Communist Party? … Because he is red.” Such a humorous response, from an openly gay politician no less, earns snaps from me: His silly approach highlights the absurdity of Greene’s own questions.
Largely missing from this political circus, however, was a strong defense of diverse public media. While Kerger and NPR CEO Katherine Maher thoughtfully refuted false claims, they did not make a clear case for the importance of featuring diverse voices and stories.
To be clear: I mean no shade to either of these public media leaders, as they were put in a very difficult position. However, I highlight a broader issue: We must do more than react to false claims; we must proactively reshape the narrative to make our case for diversity in public media and institutions.
I’ll say it loud and proud: Drag performers belong on public television, in public libraries and beyond.
Of course, drag performers are not the only example of diverse artists who belong in public media and spaces: We are simply one flavor of the creativity and brilliance that exists among LGBTQ+, BIPOC, disabled, migrant, working-class and other historically marginalized and resilient communities. And we all deserve a pride of place on bookshelves, in television programming, curricula, story hours and more.
It is in this spirit that revered scholar Rudine Sims Bishop famously described children’s literature as offering windows, mirrors and sliding glass doors. In this beautiful metaphor, she acknowledged the need for children to learn about the world around them, see themselves reflected and step into stories through their imaginations. Given that all children (and adults) are a blend of intersecting identities, we need diverse media to offer multiple points of view. Any attempt to suppress such heterogeneity is not only unethical, it is also incorrect and leaves children with a partial story of the world around them.
In my own childhood as a white, middle-class, Jewish, queer and genderqueer person, it was precisely through children’s books and television that I learned about the world. While I often had the privilege of seeing communities that looked similar to mine, I only rarely caught glimpses of queerness and gender diversity. (Still, in retrospect, queer authors and characters have always been present, but recognizing them required skills in reading between the lines.)
In my work now as a children’s author, I work diligently to ensure that characters represent a multitude of not only identities and bodies, but also styles and attitudes.
Indeed, most educational and political organizations recognize the importance of access to diverse media not only for young people’s social and emotional development, but for democratic societies to function. The UN Convention on the Rights of the Child insists that children “have the right to freedom of expression,” including “freedom to seek, receive and impart information and ideas of all kinds … in writing or in print, in the form of art, or through any other media of the child’s choice” and specifically defends access to “material from a diversity of cultural, national and international sources.”
Inherent in these understandings is a recognition of children’s autonomy — which Greene and her compatriots would rather ignore. Of course, children need guidance and care, but they are also already capable of curious and capacious thinking. It is hardly surprising that a politician like Greene, who seems to lack such skills herself, fails to see the strength of such imagination and independence. Instead, she attempts to bully others to think and act exactly like she does.
What is ironic about Greene’s attacks is that while she accuses public media, children’s authors and drag storytellers like myself of “brainwashing” children, it is Greene who wants to control minds through censorship. But drag can be an antidote. And that’s exactly why drag performers belong in public education and media.
As I have written previously for HuffPost, drag is not a form of indoctrination, but a deep practice of imagination. It does not represent “gender ideology,” but an encouragement to ask thoughtful questions about how and why we categorize people into boxes. It is an historic art form, rooted in queer and trans communities around the world, that promotes self-expression and building chosen family.
Children who are lucky enough to encounter drag performers at their local Drag Story Hours — or in books and on screens — resonate with them because they encourage forms of fantasy and playfulness that many adults have forgotten in their own lives. And it is that ability to imagine something else — whether a different gender expression, or a just a fabulous future for everyone — that threatens those in power.
To paraphrase a brilliant observation from a friend’s young child: Drag queens, kings and other fabulous beings aren’t really royalty; rather, we derive our power through hard work and by promoting pleasure and joy.
In my books, children are not told what to do; instead, they are invited to try out new tunes, dance steps, ways of being their brightest selves. While haters like Greene might find swishing one’s hips or shimmying one’s shoulders “repulsive,” I recommend she give it a try: Kids love it, and it might help her loosen up a bit to express herself more authentically.
In my upcoming book ”Make Your Own Rainbow: A Drag Queen’s Guide to Color,” young readers are encouraged to color outside the lines by learning the names of unconventional colors and mixing and matching hues to their hearts’ content. It’s a simple enough premise, with a goal to celebrate the beauty in the world around us. And yet, I brace myself for whatever nefarious interpretations critics like Greene might offer, as well as the unfortunate likelihood that in a culture in which rainbow flags are being banned, it too will face book bans.
Many of the current attacks on art and education are absurd and ridiculous — but, much like the art of drag, that hardly means we should not take them seriously. Since those currently in power claim to support freedom when, in fact, they promote fascism, it is no surprise that they seek to eradicate public institutions and art forms that promote freedom of thought and expression. We’ve seen that show, and its finale doesn’t end well.
But it is up to all of us to remember that politicians like Greene and President Donald Trump are not queens or kings — they’re bullies. And you never cave in to a bully: Instead, you outwit them, show them the error of their ways and remind them that it’s more fun on your side. So, it’s time to stand our ground: not only against homophobia, transphobia and censorship, but for diverse public media, libraries, schools and other institutions.
It just so happens that one of the best ways to do so is to tap into our inner drag queens, get in formation to snap back, stomp our way through the streets — and vanquish the real monsters.
Lil Miss Hot Mess is the author of the children’s books “Make Your Own Rainbow: A Drag Queen’s Guide to Color,” “If You’re a Drag Queen and You Know It,” and “The Hips on the Drag Queen Go Swish, Swish, Swish,” and serves on the board of Drag Queen Story Hour. She has appeared on world-class stages like SFMOMA, Stanford University, and Saturday Night Live, was a founding organizer of the #MyNameIs campaign that challenged Facebook’s “real names” policy. When not twirling, Lil Miss Hot Mess is a professor of media studies. Follow her on social media @LilMissHotMess, and learn more at lilmisshotmess.com.
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