On a chilly winter afternoon in December, while standing outside a New York City children’s museum, I found myself squeezed between two sides of one of America’s most divisive issues – children’s drag storytime. Protesters from an alt-right group waved placards emblazoned with "Drag Queen Story Hour is Child Abuse" while supporters played drums, tambourines and cow bells to drown out their taunts and swirled rainbow colored umbrellas to shield the parents and children entering the museum.
Video: The Drag Story Hour Debate in Brooklyn
Footage from December 14, 2023 outside the Brooklyn Children's Museum, where community members gathered to voice their diverse perspectives on the cultural and political debate surrounding drag story hour.
Amid the rising tensions, Amaya Nicole Perez, a 27-year-old nursing student and leader of the ultra-conservative Gays Against Groomers, leads a chant, “Drag is Not for Kids.” She’s an unexpected leader of this conservative group. Raised in Queens, Perez grew up embracing a spectrum of identities and expressions. However, her path took a definitive turn when her younger sister came out as transgender — a revelation that, according to Perez, confused her.
On her Instagram @ blackhippielife, Amaya Nicole Perez describes herself as a “Free thinker, flower child, rebel with a cause.” She’s also a NYC chapter leader of Gays Against Groomers and the account provides a snapshot of protests she’s organized at NYC venues over drag story hours.
"It felt like the ground shifted beneath our family," Perez says. "And suddenly, I found myself questioning everything I thought I understood about identity, influence and integrity."
That questioning led her to Gays Against Groomers, which has grown from anti-vaxxers during the Covid-pandemic to loudly protesting NYC drag story hours
“Everything that's happening in recent society, with schools, with kids, with gender ideology, with transitioning children, with the influx of what’s happening under the name of inclusion, a lot of us do not agree with kids being taught about gender, ideology and queer theory,” Perez says.
A day after protesting a drag story hour event, Amaya Perez spends a night out at a drag show hosted by The Strand Bookstore.
So it was surprising, when just a day after the protest in Brooklyn, Perez invites me to accompany her to a drag show at a Greenwich Village bookstore. Alive with color, laughter and music, the venue seemed a world apart from the contentious museum battleground.
“I'm not against people expressing themselves or living their truth,” she tells me when I ask why she’s OK with attending this venue. “My activism is rooted in a concern for how certain narratives are being presented to children, and the long-term impact that might have."
The contention isn't surprising given the record number of anti-LGBTQ bills introduced in the past two years. Drag, long a celebration of LGBTQ identity and a challenge to traditional gender norms, has become a focal point for conservative politicians and right-wing groups.
There’s been at least 203 documented incidents targeting drag events across the U.S. from June 1, 2022, to May 20, 2023, spanning online attacks to physical protests, according to the Institute for Strategic Dialogue. Far-right groups have targeted drag events with increasing fervor, a trend confirmed by the Crowd Counting Consortium, an organization that collects and analyzes data on protest and political rally crowds.
Timeline of protests outside NYC venues hosting drag story hours
(Sept. 2022-May 2023)
This timeline highlights key events in the cultural clash between alt-right activists and LGBTQ+ supporters as the library events have become a flashpoint on issues shaping our understanding of diversity and inclusion.
“I believe that of all the events we looked at, only 6% were canceled, which is something to be hopeful about,” says Clara Martini, a digital research analyst at the Institute for Strategic Dialogue in Washington, D.C. “I would say New York being the city that it is, does not take well to intimidation and drag events and drag story hours have continued.”
Martini is one of several experts I’ve interviewed in hopes of understanding the motivations driving each side of this LGBTQ+ flashpoint and cultural war shaping our understanding of diversity and inclusion.
“Queerness and drag isn't vulgar. It's an expression. It's an art form.” —Talia Jane, journalist
Talia Jane (who goes by the pronouns they/them), a freelance reporter covering the protests, tells me, “They've claimed that children are being taught about sex and genitals and that they are being exposed to graphic content. In reality, they're being read children's books that center on self-acceptance and tolerance.”
Most of the demonstrations Jane covers are presented by the non-profit Drag Story Hour, which brings drag queens reading books to children in libraries, schools and bookstores. Founded with the intention of promoting literacy and inclusivity, the story hours are designed to provide young audiences with positive queer role models.
Initially, the protests seemed to emerge from a place of misinformation and fear,” Jane says. “Drag, a form of expression that has existed for centuries, suddenly found itself misconstrued as something nefarious — a misleading portrayal that took hold in certain circles."
In recent months, Perez and her alt-right group Gays Against Groomers have targeted these shows. They claim the events expose children to inappropriate content and seek to “indoctrinate” them with LGBTQ+ ideologies.
Our research indicates a notable uptick in anti-drag events, with extremist groups amplifying the controversy," says Martini, whose job is to discover hate and disinformation online and track extremist groups and movements.
"What's particularly troubling is how drag has been weaponized by these groups, transforming a source of joy and creativity into a target of hate," Martini says.
"Protesters have been led to believe that Drag Story Hour is something it's not," Jane adds. "They're reacting to a phantom menace, one conjured up by misleading narratives and fear-mongering rather than the actual, harmless reality of drag performers reading to kids."
“Queerness and drag isn't vulgar,” Jane continues. “It's an expression. It's an art form.”
And that art form, that expression, is exactly what Perez, the alt-right leader, experiences the day after the library protest.
In the Greenwich Village bookstore, Perez says she’s attending the evening drag show to ensure the event adheres to age restrictions, given its lack of explicit labeling for an 18+ audience. “I do think it's adult entertainment. I don't think kids should be around it,” she says.
This rationale positions her more as an observer with a specific agenda rather than an audience member there for the entertainment. Yet, as the evening's performances captivate the room, I notice moments that seem to challenge the simplicity of this categorization.
Video: Day – and night – In the alt-right realm
Amaya Perez dances at The Strand bookstore, indulging in a night out at a drag performance despite her strongly held conventions. “I have amazing friends who are drag queens, I love them,” Perez says.
On that Friday evening, surrounded by an audience of enthusiasts, the bookstore-turned-drag-venue hums with energy. We secure our spots among the audience, ending up next to a tiny Christmas tree adorned with book-themed baubles.
One drag queen performs in a stunning black velvet gown with a pink satin bow and what must have been up to three wigs teased sky high. Perez seems to be having a great time. She’s dancing, clapping along and laughing. I couldn’t believe that this alt-right protestor was enjoying the performance, the camp, the glamor. The sheer over-the-top fun.
“I have amazing friends who are drag queens, I love them,” Perez tells me.
As the drag show draws to a close, the lively atmosphere inside slowly gives way to the quiet hum of the city night outside. Standing on the busy street, with a small microphone attached to my iPhone, I capture her final thoughts of the evening.
"Can I ask you maybe a difficult question? Do you ever feel a sense of connection to the drag queens you protest?” Perez nods yes, and says,“I do.”
"I have amazing friends who are drag queens, love them, but I do think it's adult entertainment. I don't think kids should be around it," she says. "I feel like in our society we were groomed to think how to think and how to feel about things. Society grooms us. They set limits for you."
“I do still have my liberal views,” she admits. “I am still a hippie. I am against a lot of things that, you know, I guess more right-leaning people would be for. I very much feel like I'm politically homeless now. I feel more like just in the middle. I just have my own opinions and kind of see the nuance more and people listen to me.”
"I felt like something just told me, like, this is something you should do and this is like a path," Perez says.
As I thank her for the interview and for the night out, we part ways. Reflecting on our encounter, I realize I don’t have any grand revelations to share, no simple conclusions to draw from this experience. The shades of protest against drag culture serve as a poignant reminder: Behind every placard, every chant, and every performance, there are individuals grappling with their beliefs, their identities and the world around them.
Story and videos by Holly Lehren
Columbia Journalism School
March 18, 2024
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