Teachers, students — even my grandmother — went to these drag-queen pageants | Opinion
I have attended many drag-queen performances. Currently, the question that needs to be asked is, “Which does more damage — anti-drag laws or drag performances?
In Florida, Gov. Ron DeSantis signed a bill in May prohibiting a person from knowingly admitting a minor to adult performances, including drag shows. The state’s Department of Business and Professional Regulation can fine, suspend or revoke the operating or alcohol licenses of hotels or restaurants if they admit a child into an adult performance.
A bill passed in Tennessee makes “adult cabaret performances” in public or in the presence of children illegal, and bans them from occurring within 1,000 feet of schools, public parks, or places of worship. Those found violating the anti-drag law face misdemeanor charges in the first instance, punishable by a fine up to $2,500 and/or up to a year in jail. Those found for subsequent violations face a felony charge, punishable by up to six years in jail.
Other GOP-led state legislatures have been pushing similar anti-drag bills.
For five years, my wife and I taught in Samoa and American Samoa. And every year we attended the countries’ third-gender beauty pageants. Samoan culture is mostly accepting of their Fa’afafines, or third-gender citizens. Fa’afafines means the way, or fashion, of a woman. There are also Fa’afatamas — individuals who are born female but identify as male. It is a social and communal gender-fluid status within the Samoan cultural context.
Fa’afafines and Fa’afatamas, are not all transgender. Some Fa’afafines live their lives out as women, whereas others may choose to live as men with feminine attributes. Being Fa’afafine does not necessarily mean a person is gay; they consider themselves instead to be a third gender. About 1% to 5% of Samoa’s 222,000 people identifies as Fa’afafine or Fa’afatama.
Every year in American Samoa, a Fa’afafine beauty pageant took place, exceedingly close to the police station. The same thing occurred in independent Samoa just over 130 miles away in their major hotels. I lived in both places and neither event ever was to be missed.
These pageants were major social events that were advertised months ahead. Tickets were difficult to come by. Friends, family members, offspring, chieftains, priests, ministers and politicians attended to support their favorites. My school staff members supported our school librarian. She would have been at home as a linebacker, but she needed to be in the show. Also, far more entertaining, one year my 68-year-old grandmother visited. We were given a front-row seat at the pageant because of her age. Better yet, my grandmother was chosen as an audience judge, one of three.
The contestants had to wear: a bathing suit, traditional Samoan clothing and Western clothing and they had to perform a traditional Samoan dance. My grandmother sat mouth agape, her fingers on both hands splayed over her wide-open eyes. “Oh, my goodness. My goodness, My goodness!” she declared as she watched everything from between those open fingers.
The highlight was when one of the Fa’afafine’s traditional skirt dropped to the stage floor, revealing the contestant in super-tight pantyhose. It also revealed that the contestant was an exceedingly healthy male. The place echoed with screams of delight, laughter and joy. People pounded the tables, some crying. Others smashed their bottles on the floor. My grandmother kept saying, “I’m gonna pee. I’m gonna pee.” She was not the only one.
We made lots of lifetime friends that night. Our school librarian did not win; neither did the contestant who lost the skirt, although my grandmother did cast her ballot for both of them.
In the end those pageants were wonderful and healthy for everyone who attended. They are certainly nothing to be feared. Perhaps if the legislators seeking to criminalize such shows went to one first, they’d learn to respect the liberty of the individuals involved — and loosen up a little.
It’s clear these laws do far more damage than a dropped skirt does.
Paul Karrer is a retired Monterey County, California, school teacher who has also taught in Samoa, Korea, England, Connecticut and California. He hosts the podcast Teacher Tails — Karrer Shorts.
