Drag performance has its roots in ancient ritual.  In Greece’s Golden Age, Antigone and Medea were played by male actors in the annual theater contest that was part of the week-long ritual to celebrate Dionysus.  Contemporary drag culture is ritualistic, but the ritual has a different form and a very different purpose.  For many modern gay man like me, drag is a two-tiered ritual of empowerment and acceptance.

The first part of the ritual is personal.  Each queen has her own process.  Here is mine:

I sit at my mirror.  Staring back is the face of the boy who was bullied and teased for being feminine and different. As a child, being called a girl was the worst possible insult.  I tried to fit in, butch it up, play a sport.  The result? More taunting: “Sissy!” “You throw like a girl!” “Fag!”  Eventually, I protected myself by squashing my nature, muting any flamboyance, conforming to a limited sense of masculinity.  I hid under drab clothes.  Awkward.  Self-conscious.  Afraid of myself. 

But now, in front of this mirror, I transcend.