- Missy Steak is a Boston-based drag queen who's been working for almost eight years.
- She hosts drag brunches, but says recent attacks from conservatives can be terrifying.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Missy Steak, a 30-year-old drag queen from Boston, Massaschusetts, about her time as a performer and the recent rhetoric and threats against drag performers. The following has been edited for length and clarity.
Earlier this year, I was invited to perform at Newton North High School for their ToBeGlad Day, which was a celebration of trans, queer, and gay people and the futures they have in their lives. The Queer Student Union invited a bunch of professionals, including myself, to speak, answer questions, and perform. It was completely organized by the students, and I was honored to go.
I had a feeling that there might be a negative reaction, especially watching the anti-drag legislation and discourse happening across the country.
About a week before the event, a local blogger wrote an article taking down the school and criticizing the decision to book me. He took old photos and performances out of context, and the comments on the blog were filled with death threats and rants about grooming and pedophilia.
And then a week later, it was picked up by Fox News. And that got thousands of comments on it.
I had never been through that before. A day before the event, there was a protest against me at the town hall — thankfully, there was a counterprotest to support me that completely outnumbered the actual protest, with over 100 counterprotesters.
And that gave me the strength to attend the ToBeGlad event the next day. The auditorium was full, and it was a great event.
But I'm not here to convince anyone to like drag. It should be so easy to respect things that aren't your cup of tea.
But these people want me dead — it doesn't matter how dumb I think their argument is, or how little logic they're standing on, they have their target. Trans people, queer people, that's their target.
Drag is a reclamation of all the things I was too afraid to enjoy as a kid
The first time I ever performed in drag was at a "virgins" show.
The punk show was called "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" in Allston, Massachusetts. It was an opportunity for people who have never done drag to try it out. I didn't have a drag mother or a mentor, but I still put on a pink wig — one that I still have to this day.
Drag became a reclamation of all the things I was too afraid to enjoy as a kid, from Sailor Moon and Wonder Woman to Princess Peach. I loved watching cartoons and playing with Barbies, so drag heals that inner child that loved pink, loved sparkles, and wanted to be the pretty Barbie.
My thing with drag is that it's just really fun. I love it — I like to have a good time, make people laugh, and produce fun looks. For me, drag sort of incorporates a lot of mediums I've done since I was growing up. I can draw a little, sing a little, dance a little, act a little. With drag, I get to do all of that. That's what drew me to drag in the first place and keeps me invested in it.
I knew I had to perform at that high school
I've come full circle now as I've started my own virgin pageant, Big Mx Steak. I hold those shows sacred because they really bring the spirit of drag to places across Boston.
One thing I've learned is that the opportunities to work drag brunches, corporate parties, and Pride Month events aren't going to come unless you go looking for them. Every job I've ever had in Boston was either a connection I made from another gig or a cold call or email.
And I just remind myself that it's work. That's the whole thing with story hours, too. It's insane that anyone would think that drag queen story hour with children and families is some malicious plan or something — it's work. To get up that early, put on that much makeup, drive to a library in costumes and do the event can be a lot. But we were booked and asked to be there.
One of the reasons I had to perform at Newton North High School was because I wondered: what would my life look like if I had seen a drag queen perform when I was a teenager?
How different would I have been if I had been given all this freedom to enjoy the things I was afraid to enjoy?
A ton of the students and their parents reached out to me to thank me after the performance, and I truly think their lives could be different from this. Even if it was just one student in that auditorium, I'm proud I made a difference.