Finding pride joy in RuPaul’s Drag Race

Pride happens once a year but a new Drag Race episode drops every week

“The time has come for you to lipsync for your life!”

RuPaul, host of her eponymous franchise of Drag Race, had just named two contestants that are in danger of elimination. Anetra and Marcia Marcia Marcia, who present as male and non-binary respectively out of drag and transform into gorgeous, heeled up females in drag, have been tasked to prepare a performance to Boss Bitch by Doja Cat where they have to not only lip sync every word but also vie for the judges to let them stay on. 

The beginning clinks of the track played onstage. Anetra and Marcia mouthed every word with an enunciation so convincing that they might as well have recorded the track. Marcia bent backwards and moved towards the judges on all fours. Right as the lyrics hit “I hope I float”, Anetra cartwheeled over Marcia.

All in stiletto heels.

Guest judge comedian Ali Wong screamed. Fellow contestants witnessing this lipsync from the back of the stage yelled out their support. The two twirled, vogued, and strutted against each other. Then the final chorus hit.

Both queens dropped down on the floor. Marcia split in front of the judges while Anetra did a death drop, a signature drag queen move where they lift up one leg and slam themselves to the ground for a dramatic impact.

At the end of each episode, one contestant would go home. By the end of the season, one contestant is crowned as the winner with a diamond crown and scepter. Since Ru girls — what the contestants call themselves after being on the franchise — have brought the drag art form into mainstream pop culture, the queens would tour the world, headline pride events, and host local drag brunches.

I didn’t always love RuPaul’s Drag Race, the American Idol equivalent for the drag art form. Until my partner introduced me to the franchise.

On our first home-strapped pandemic Valentine’s day, Jin requested that I indulge her in one episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race. I don’t like reality TV shows. But Jin told me this series showcases the top-tier presentations of the art form and has some zingy, sassy puns to go alongside the gag-worthy runway looks.

We zoomed through six episodes that day. I fell in love.

RuPaul’s Drag Race, with all its splits, death drops, and burger fingers became my glamorous reminder that I shouldn’t take myself too seriously. A contestant showed up threw spaghetti into a bathtub. Another had bananas hanging off her clothes. One karate-chopped a wooden block in stilettos. In embodying the persona of an alter ego, these people are transformed to fully express themselves through this character they made up. The characters are silly, raunchy, and sometimes really nerdy. Through all the glitter and sparkles of their appearances, these drag queens can fully lean into a child-like place of self-expression, all while being validated by queer people and fans worldwide through this now-mainstream franchise.

Enter: serious me

I didn’t use to be this kind of gay. I was more of the serious type that focused on the social justice part of the LGBTQ+ movement. That’s what I thought when I started my university’s first LGBTQ+ club, when I attended pride marches, when I led pride groups at the companies I worked for, when I spoke out for queer representation.

After all, don’t we queer people exist in the margins and therefore need to elbow our way into being equal with everyone else? There’s a lot of personal trauma that I draw my energy from when advocating for rights. Coming out as lesbian was hard and it took my family seven years to come around. News of my sexuality became gossip fodder in my very religious, homogenous, Indonesian hometown. I’ve heard numerous versions of this through the grapevine: “Becky is too pretty to be a lesbian”.

Existing felt like a defiance, a rebellious act to signal to the world, “Hey, we are here and we are worth it.” It was only natural for that passion to have an undercurrent of anger and solemnity. But there was a problem. I got tired of being so angry and feeling marginalized all the time.

Then these drag queens strutted into my life.

RuPaul’s Drag Race became proof that I can be silly and enjoy ourselves, all while going through the uphill battle that comes with living as a queer person. There’s a segment on each episode where the contestants talk about their personal battles, about how their families don’t accept them, or how the cities they perform in are introducing laws to ban drag queens, or that they are scared to come out as a different gender identity from what they were assigned at birth. These conversations are heartfelt, real, and yet these queens still draw in their eyebrows symmetrically and choose to show up every day as their whole selves.

Drag is the epitome of queer identities. Every performer that shows up disregards any societal norm for how people should conventionally present themselves, be it gender expectations or otherwise. They bring in their traditional garb, affectionately and proudly wearing clothes from customs that rejected them. Behind the layers of makeup, padding, and outfits lie people that are so free to express themselves through public celebrations without any disregard for societal norms because everything in drag is kooky and fun.

My pride advocacy work

These drag queens are now a mainstay in my life. Pride happens once a year but a new Drag Race episode drops every week.

My pride advocacy work is now imbued with a healthy amount of glimmer. When I host meetings to promote Gay Games Hong Kong, I have a playlist containing Trixie Mattel’s Hello Hello and Hayley Kiyoko’s for the girls. When hosting networking sessions, I bring my colleagues to a gay bar with a drag queen stage instead of a draft beer pub. Instead of being beaten down by the pressures of having to speak out for the whole LGBTQ+ community, I learned to dress up in glitter and have a little fun.

In the last twelve months, I have had the fortune of seeing some of the Ru girls in person. (Flying to see Drag Race queens is my new personality). Being in a queer crowd while screaming the lyrics to Beyoncé’s PURE/HONEY that drag queens are lip syncing to is nothing short of spiritually magical. All the people in the crowd are connecting with this art form, feeling free to kiss their partners of choice, wear androgynous clothing, and also know every word to all the queer-coded pop songs. We could be marginalized outside, but here in this safe space, we are celebrating our full selves.

Existing as a queer person should not be a fight that anyone has to battle anymore. But there is still a long way to go for the world to get there. While it’s important that some serious work is done to advocate for our equal rights, it’s just as important to honor our progress along the way.

So the next time I feel like I’m solemnly carrying the torch and marching towards equality, I can instead strut down the pathway with a drag queen-esque finesse.

Huge thanks to the Write of Passage folks who sprinkled in their glittery feedback:

Camilo Moreno-Salamanca

, Gloria Castillo,

Jesse

, Carol Guasp,

Mareesa Stertz

, Rohit Malhotra, Kaitie Fraser,

Simon Emslie

,

Ishita Singh

,

Rick Lewis

, Adya Singh, Brittany McFadden,

Karena

, Wigo, Jake Ballinger, and

Eloise Armstrong

.

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Update log:

• 📺 Blazed through the Thailand sapphic TV show, The Secret of Us (available on Netflix Thailand and YouTube). Watch this couple being my personality for the next few weeks.

• ✍🏼 Edited 22 essays this week for Write of Passage.

• 🏃‍♀️ Finally tried all eight station exercises (plus running!) for Hyrox, an upcoming fitness competition I’m participating in. I oscillate between feeling confident and feeling like I can’t do it. I felt all those feelings within my trainings.

• 😞 Feeling very impostor syndrome-y this week with both editing and working out. I don’t usually feel like this. I must be in need of some self-care or self-regulation.

• 📲 Connected with

  Rik
  and
  Linart Seprioto
  on our respective creative projects. I love being in touch with creatives that are working on their own thing.

• 🛥️ Painted by the beach over the long weekend. It’s finally sub-30°C in Hong Kong so it’s bearable to paint outside again.

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