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RuPaul’s Drag Race and Black Queer Theory

RuPaul’s Drag Race, a famous and highly circulated reality television show, “is

positioned as the official reality television show for queer America, demonstrating the

permissible forms of drag and gender performance” (Edgar 135). The show, encouraging the

existence and temporality of Blackness, queerness, and gender-nonconformance, makes these

identities not only visible but central to appreciating the contestants, or drag queens, on each

season. Drag Race allows and very much encourages gender-nonconformance and identity

exploration -- two primary practices and goals of Black Queer Theory. Just like the increasing

“political activism and literary production by openly gay black men,” Black queer drag queens

reconfigure and challenge heterosexist notions of gender and sexuality within the Black

community and racist formulations of queerness within the white gay community (Nero 399).

More than this, Drag Race crafts a safe and inclusive space for transgressive sex, with drag

queens confronting and challenging “mainstream conventions” of “gender, sexuality, or race” to

affect political and social change (Phillips and Stewart 380). As an exemplary site of gender

(re)configuration, identity exploration, transgressive sex, and autobiographical signification,

RuPaul’s Drag Race serves as a powerful and contemporary tool to employ Black Queer Theory

and Critical Race Theory to the end of amplifying Blackness, queerness, and a whole host of

other identities.

Before analyzing Drag Race, Black Queer Theory and Critical Race Theory require

attention and the construction of robust definitions. Charles I. Nero’s, “Toward a Black Gay

Aesthetic,” and Henry Louis Gates, Jr.’s, “Introduction to The Signifying Monkey,” provide

critical and important insights to understanding the two theories. Focusing on Black gay men,

Nero recognizes the two threatening forces in the lives of many self-identifying Black queer
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people: heterosexism within the Black community and racism within the white gay community.

In writing his essay, Nero seeks to upend and reduce the looming threat of heterosexism and

racism impacting Black queer people, encouraging the revision of current conceptions of the

“black family and of homosexuality as alien to black culture” (Nero 404). Black Queer Theory,

then, challenges heteronormative notions of family, “manhood” and femininity, and sexual and

gender identities within the Black community while recognizing how “dominant discourses”

such as whiteness, patriarchy, heterosexuality, and cisgender identities influence these normative

understandings (Nero 401, 412). This intersectional lens allows critics employing Black Queer

Theory to tackle analysis on a variety of fronts, from assessing how cookbooks serve as sites of

transgressive sex to how the autobiographical narratives shared by famous Black gay male

writers like Samuel Delany empower an umbrella of Black queer identities (Nero 406, 414).

Prior to unpacking Gates’ explanation of Critical Race Theory, Nero demonstrates how

the two theories relate and inform one another when acknowledging how, while combing

through possible authors and literature to analyze, the act of signifying, or signification,

represents a shared device in theorizing: “Because signifying relies on indirection to give

information, it requires that participants in any communicative encounter pay attention to … ‘the

total universe of discourse’” (Nero 400). Whether the signification occurs in the literature of

Samuel Delany or the musical verse and television commentary of RuPaul, “signifying” within

the Black literary canon and Black vernacular tradition, as Gates would argue, “is greatly aided

by using the autobiographical form,” recognized as a “successful mode [of analysis] for black

Americans … because ‘the self is the source of the system, of which it is a part, creates what it

discovers, and although it is nothing unto itself, it is the possibility of everything for itself” (Nero

406). Black Queer Theory, then, includes autobiographical narrative and expression as a primary
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mode of analysis as it centers the self-identified identities of the subject – Blackness, queerness,

and an interactive display of other identities – which makes the subject visible, appreciated, and

included.

Critical Race Theory, as Gates implicitly demonstrates in his essay, oftentimes operates

alongside and in conjunction with Black Queer Theory. Taken together, the two theoretical

frameworks illuminate and supplement one another, with Critical Race Theory providing

insightful dialogue into signification and the Black literary canon and Black Queer Theory

centering the intersectional identities of writers, readers, and audiences alike. Gates theorizes

about a shared Black vernacular tradition which distinguishes the “black person’s ultimate sign

of difference” and contributes to the “private yet communal cultural rituals” wherein this sign of

difference often (re)appears (Gates 339). By theorizing, Gates seeks to refigure “what we may

think of as key canonical topoi and tropes received from the black tradition itself” (Gates 342).

Most importantly – and an acknowledgement resonant with Black Queer Theory – Critical Race

Theory serves to “enhance the reader’s experience of black texts by identifying levels of

meaning and expression that might otherwise remain mediated, or buried beneath the surface”

(Gates 340). Centering the lived experience of writers, readers, and general audiences, whether

through autobiographical signification, double-voiced narratives, or relatable tropes in the Black

literary canon, Gates’ discussion of Critical Race Theory gives space and visibility to Black

Queer Theory within the larger Black literary canon. And, as Gates continues, his discussion of

Critical Race Theory within Black literature resonates beyond literature, to “black artistic forms”

like “painting and sculpture to music and language use” (Gates 344).

Altogether, Black Queer Theory and Critical Race Theory act as interactive modes of

analysis when approaching Black literature or art in general. The theoretical groundwork laid by
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Nero and Gates offers robust definitions of both theories and demonstrates how, whether

intended or not, the explanation of one theory illuminates the other, particularly when

understanding autobiographical signification. These definitions and unpacking of Black Queer

Theory and Critical Race Theory will serve to analyze and deconstruct RuPaul’s Drag Race and

his life as a drag queen, self-identifying Black gay man, and musical artist. Challenging

heteronormative notions of gender-conformance, the standard of qualifying singular identities,

and acquiescing Blackness and queerness within dominant discourses, RuPaul represents

someone who consistently upends heterosexist and racist expectations, laying the groundwork

for continuous redefinition, exploration, and fulfillment.

Gender-nonconformance and the rejection of rigid identities best explain the lived

experiences of RuPaul, who, along with other drag queens and Black queer people, defies the

boxes expected of him. To preface an analysis of RuPaul’s transgressive behavior, Layli Phillips

and Marla Stewart offer a critical analysis and discussion of Black people in the U.S. “who do

gender, sexuality, and sometimes race in ways that are considered by themselves or others to be

unconventional or boundary defying...” Phillips and Stewart, like many contemporary scholars

theorizing about intersectionality, demonstrate how, reflexively, many former liberating

discussions surrounding queer and racial identities “have reified notions of social address and

reinforced processes of social ascription and categorization” (Phillips and Stewart 380). In

distilling vibrant and multifarious identities into categories, Phillips and Stewart argue that social

subscribers run the risk of rendering “invisible important details of people’s experience and

meaning systems” (Phillips and Stewart 397). Instead, the co-authors subscribe to

“transgressive” sexual and gender identities that exist for a “host of reasons and purposes”:
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... self-expression and the pursuit of self-actualization; personal rebellion; identity

exploration; survival management; status negotiation; strategic collective action and

political activism; performance and entertainment; money-making and fundraising, and,

simply, play (Phillips and Stewart 386)

By virtue of working against the compounding forces of heterosexism and racism, Phillips and

Stewart acknowledge how Black queer people “are radical by definition, as the living antithesis

of straight, white, capitalist, male norms” as they “defy existing notions of reality, at the same

time as they fly under the radar of dominant discourses” (Phillips and Stewart 383). RuPaul, like

many Black queer people before and after him, subscribes to the exploratory practice of identity

(re)configuration in Drag Race and in his musical career, which (re)produce how he includes his

many identities into “performance,” such as “his identity as a southern, working-class, African

American ‘sissy,’ his experiences in racial and sexual minority communities, his identification

with the strong women of his family, and his early experimentation with ‘punk or gender fuck

drag’” (Schewe 673).

Drag performance, as Eir-Anne Edgar argues, allows the performer to (re)construct how

they render their gender identity which, reactively, deconstructs normative gender. RuPaul’s

Drag Race practices this deconstruction of heteronormativity, as contestants transgress more

than just a “man putting on a dress,” but, through a “constellation of feminine performances,”

demonstrate the “constructed nature of gender” (Edgar 138). Similarly, Phillips and Stewart,

centering the lived experience and voice of RuPaul in constructing his “constellation” of

identities, acknowledge how, as RuPaul and other contestants deconstruct normative gender, they

detach “femininity from [the] female sex and [give] men as much claim to femininity as women”

(Phillips and Stewart 392). While not every contestant on the show identifies as a Black gay
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man as RuPaul does – with many contestants in recent years identifying as trans women – this

transgression and adoption of femininity by self-identifying Black gay men challenges normative

constructions of gender. With heterosexuality serving as the “presumed norm” within the Black

community, and mainstream society in general, the identity exploration and gender

(re)configuration practiced by Black queer people and drag queens subverts the white-washed

and rigid categorization of sexual labels normalized under early explorations in queer theory and

normative heterosexism.

Challenging these rigid categories and presumed norms within the Black community and

white gay community serves to dismantle oppressive systems limiting the freedom, expression,

and autonomy of Black queer people. The intended aim of Black Queer Theory, as Phillips and

Stewart enunciate, works to dislodge and decenter “normative homophobia and heterosexist

thought,” which, if successfully achieved, gives space for the “psychological wellness and self-

valuation … [of] queer people, and, in parallel, antipathy, discrimination, and violence among

straight people toward queer people decline” (Phillips and Stewart 382). The work of RuPaul’s

Drag Race, then, serves to achieve this goal of the simultaneous liberation of Blackness and

queerness from dominant discourses, which, as RuPaul demonstrates, comes in many forms of

political activism, individual wellness, and entertainment. Drag Race, the legendary trendsetter

for queer reality television, “has been applauded for ushering in a new era of inclusive, ‘real,’

and diverse representations of queer sexuality” (Edgar 135). Doing such makes Drag Race a

poignant artifact within popular culture to apply Black Queer Theory.

Queer pop culture, and specifically Drag Race, centers the many forms of resistance that

RuPaul and other Black queer people practice, particularly political and social activism and

visibility via widely circulated forms of entertainment. As Elizabeth Schewe suggests, “...
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RuPaul embraces … the pop-culture marketplace...,” where he strategically seeks to center

multifarious expressions of gender-nonconformance and transgressive sex within drag

performance (Schewe 670). RuPaul and other self-identifying Black gay men on Drag Race do

such through “defy[ing] expectations for masculinity in male-bodied persons … also defy[ing]

expectations regarding male femininity in key ways, highlighting the complex nature of gender

expression and performance [particularly] in Black community contexts” (Phillips and Stewart

390). More than this, Schewe acknowledges how RuPaul’s career as a television host, musical

artist, and popular culture icon contribute to the recognition and praise accorded to Drag Race:

“It is within this celebratory narrative that performance promises to open up a transcendent

political space...” (Schewe 678). Nonetheless, like many cultural actors before him, RuPaul also

admits that visibility in and of itself does not alleviate the compounding oppressions of

heterosexism and racism and that pop culture does not wholly achieve liberation:

RuPaul’s ambivalence about the pop-culture marketplace thus points to larger concerns

about the limitations of ‘visibility politics’ -- the idea that the proliferation of media

images of a particular group corresponds with increased political power (Schewe 680)

Despite the challenges presented by popular culture, RuPaul’s engagement with popular media

through Drag Race and his music career demonstrate how visibility can and does affect political

and social change. Just like the Black gay men bravely forging more visible and public identities

as exemplified by Nero’s, “Towards a Black Gay Aesthetic,” so too do Black queer drag queens

– no matter how they self-identify – inspire intersectional liberation through their concomitant

centering of Blackness and queerness.

RuPaul’s, “If You Were a Woman [And I Was a Man],” from his Fox Lady album

released in 1996, serves as a relevant medium to import and implement Black Queer Theory’s
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discussions of gender-nonconformance, identity exploration, and transgressive sex. And as

Phillips and Stewart acknowledge, “One approach to these questions [of gender-

nonconformance, etc.] involves surveying existing representations of non-conformity in popular

culture, including literature, film, and journalism” (Phillips and Stewart 385). Choosing a

musical medium, then, acts to illuminate how popular culture – specifically media produced by

and geared towards Black queer people – practices tenets of Black Queer Theory and, in

conjunction, Critical Race Theory. Conveniently, analyzing “If You Were a Woman [And I Was

a Man]” also places this analysis within the same timeframe of both Nero’s and Gates’ essays.

“Gender fluidity,” as Phillips and Stewart observe, “is reflected in a number of ways,

including highly individualized mixes of male and female elements, switching back and forth

between male and female personae, and the rejection of seemingly appropriate labels...” (Phillips

and Stewart 391). RuPaul showcases his gender fluidity and autobiographical voice in “If You

Were a Woman,” particularly when he frequently switches between male and female personae

and by subverting normative gender: “How’s it feel to be a woman / How’s it feel to be a man /

Are we really that different / Tell me where you stand / I look at you, you look away / Why do

you say we’re night and day / I’d like to try another way / Oh darlin’ for just one day” (Lines 1-

8). His subversion of normative gender, whether through drag or musical performance, allows

RuPaul to explore sexual and gender (re)configuration and constantly toggle with how he self-

identifies. “If I Were a Woman” also explores how sexuality, specifically love, flourishes when

not beholden to heteronormativity, but, as RuPaul demonstrates, there remain challenges to

expression and visibility for Black queer people: “Hey, we’re just two people trying to love / Oh

but how, how can we love / With this wall between us, holding us back” (Lines 27-29).

Metaphorized as a “wall,” the interactive forces of heterosexism and racism, while increasingly
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challenged by the greater visibility of Black queer people, still regulate and control “normative”

sexuality and gender. Through the autobiographical mode, however, RuPaul’s Drag Race, music

career, and public personality contribute to the erosion and delegitimization of these power

structures – the root of what makes Black Queer Theory so liberatory.

The junction of Black Queer Theory and Critical Race Theory meets at the practice and

employment of signification to centralize both Black and queer canons, whether literary, popular

culture, or musical, and inspire intersectional liberation. This shared theoretical platform aims to

amplify Blackness and queerness and give each identity space from the other. Reaching this

goal, as Nero demonstrates, would remedy the frequently held issue among Black queer folks –

in Nero’s context, specifically Black gay men – wherein one identity takes primacy over the

other: “... some African American brothers become ‘black gay men’ while others become ‘gay

black men’; the designation often underscores painful decisions to have primary identities either

in the black or the gay community” (Nero 412). Centering lived experience and

autobiographical narrative, however, make these concerns visible and understood to the end of

providing shared space for Blackness and queerness without one identity trumping the other.

RuPaul’s 1995 autobiography, Lettin it All Hang Out: An Autobiography, serves to center

Blackness and queerness and give the identities – in conjunction with other identities – a shared

space.

Elizabeth Schewe’s, “Serious Play,” offers an immersive analysis of RuPaul’s

autobiography in which signification – in both Black Queer Theory and Critical Race Theory

contexts – plays a central role. Schewe provides an encompassing summary of RuPaul’s

autobiography that appears to contain “two unresolved, although inextricably intertwined,

narratives: that of his public success, which requires facing the ‘glare of public scrutiny,’ and
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that of his private development, which leads him to discover ‘how important it is to live your life

according to no one else’s rules but your own’” (Schewe 677). RuPaul’s autobiography acts as

“the combination of confessional autobiography and self-help manual in which RuPaul teaches

his readers to find their authentic selves by trying drag” (Schewe 675). Through drag

performance and “his identity as a southern, working-class, African American ‘sissy,’” RuPaul

consistently finds himself “outside the bounds of … ‘normative regulations’ due to his

femininity, his race, and (for the first half of his life) his social class” (Schewe 673, 680). His

sincerity and willingness to share his personal story while in the limelight demonstrates the

significance and potential of autobiography to spur political and social visibility for Black queer

people.

Like the signification of topoi and tropes within the Black literary canon – whether

through repetition or revision – RuPaul's autobiography demonstrates moments of signification,

particularly through signifying gender (re)configuration and how everyday gender and drag

gender analogize the double-voiced narratives of the Black vernacular tradition (Gates 342, 347).

Edgar provides this insight when she observes, “Drag is ultimately successful (and most

subversive) at the very moment that a type of doubled-ness occurs, a layering of the

performances of everyday gender and drag gender” (Edgar 141). RuPaul’s autobiography and

Drag Race represent this signification of “doubled-ness” as it appears in both Blackness and

queerness, with the “doubled-ness” of queerness notable in the “satirization of heterosexuality”

and the “plethora of queer performance potentialities” that allow for extensive drag exploration

(Edgar 136). Gates assumes authority over deconstructing the double-voiced narratives of Black

trickster characters and Black literature produced by Zora Neal Hurston, wherein “doubled-ness”

speaks to a distinct Black vernacular and literary canon. This literary canon, “encoded [with]
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private yet communal cultural rituals,” analogizes RuPaul’s autobiographical signification,

where RuPaul’s “doubled-ness” comes from the division of his “public success” and “private

development,” which, altogether, preach gender subversion and identity exploration. And by

practicing what he preaches, the “over-the-top representations of femininity” performed by

RuPaul as an “outspokenly black gay man” serve to connect with and relate Black Queer Theory

to Critical Race Theory (Schewe 672).

To return to Nero’s argument, Black Queer Theory, and specifically a “Black Gay

Aesthetic,” seeks to revise contemporary “models of the black family and of homosexuality as

alien to black culture” (Nero 404). Critical Race Theory, carving space and visibility for

Blackness, preaches similar goals, making theoretical practitioners refigure what comprises the

“black tradition itself” (Gates 342). While “theory can serve to mystify what strike some readers

as fairly straightforward matters of … representation or reference, or denotation and meaning,”

the overlap between Black Queer Theory and Critical Race Theory serves to articulate

intersectional liberation and visibility (Gates 340). RuPaul’s Drag Race, his liberatory and

subversive life, and music career simultaneously conspire to achieve the goals set forth by both

Black Queer Theory and Critical Race Theory. Reconfiguring heterosexist notions of gender,

RuPaul’s Drag Race subverts normative gender, and, in freeing defiance, centers transgressive

sex and an umbrella of identities forged through exploration. Through signification – both

through autobiography and music – RuPaul allows other Black queer folks to live their truths as

RuPaul seeks to live his every day. RuPaul also counters misinterpretation and appropriation

through autobiography as he unpacks and speaks the lived experiences that comprise his identity

(Schewe 675). An example of Black liberation, queer visibility, and self-esteem and celebration,
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RuPaul epitomizes the juncture between Black Queer Theory and Critical Race Theory, in which

Drag Race spearheads the charge.

Bibliography

Edgar, Eir-Anne. “'Xtravaganza!': Drag Representation and Articulation in RuPaul's Drag

Race.” Studies in Popular Culture, vol. 34, no. 1, 2011, pp. 133–146.
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Gates, Henry Louis. “Introduction to the Signifying Monkey: A Theory of Afro-American

Literary Criticism.” African American Literary Theory: A Reader, edited by Winston

Napier, NYU Press, 2000, pp. 339–347.

Nero, Charles I. “Toward a Black Gay Aesthetic: Signifying in Contemporary Black Gay

Literature.” African American Literary Theory: A Reader, edited by Winston Napier,

NYU Press, 2000, pp. 399–420.

Phillips, Layli, and Marla R. Stewart. “'I Am Just So Glad You Are Alive': New Perspectives on

Non-Traditional, Non-Conforming, and Transgressive Expressions of Gender, Sexuality,

and Race Among African Americans.” Journal of African American Studies, vol. 12, no.

4, Dec. 2008, pp. 378–400.

RuPaul. If You Were a Woman [And I Was a Man], 26 Oct. 1996.

Schewe, Elizabeth. “Serious Play: Drag, Transgender, and the Relationship Between

Performance and Identity in the Life Writing of RuPaul and Kate Bornstein.” Biography,

vol. 32, no. 4, 2009, pp. 670–695.