Being Beijing’s Drag Daddy

We give you all the essentials in Beijing, from events to news to community connections.

advertisement

My name is Elizabeth Stride. I’m a 34 year old public servant, drag queen, and father of twins.

Honestly, it’s not that big of a deal.

Drag was something I discovered late in life – I’ve always loved to perform, but RuPaul’s Drag Race showed me how diverse and talented drag queens actually were and I knew I’d found a calling. I felt the same way when our kids were born. I love drag and parenting, and have spent the past three years bringing the two together.

Back when Elizabeth first emerged, I was living with my long-term partner (now husband), and drag took a while for him to get used to – for a brief time, he thought my desire to perform in drag meant I might be a trans woman. But gradually he did his research and, as an artist himself, came to appreciate drag – as I do – as an art form. He sets very high standards for  Elizabeth – but then, she sets even higher ones for herself.

In the early days we did have to have an awkward conversation with my mother-in-law – already reeling from the revelation that her son was gay and on track to marry another man – when, while ‘helpfully’ tidying up our apartment, she came across, as she whispered to her son that evening, “Jack’s woman’s bra.” But on the whole, it’s been a smooth ride. China has a long and distinguished tradition of female impersonation, from Ming dynasty opera through Mei Lanfang to Lin Yugang and beyond, so the notion of men dressing as women for entertainment isn’t alien to even the more conservative sections of society.

The arrival of our twins in 2016 brought joy, terror, exhaustion, and a wealth of new experiences that continue to shape me as a person, and Elizabeth had to do more than just lose the baby weight. More than three years later and I’m still in search of perfect equilibrium. I don’t slap on full drag when taking my kids to kindergarten (partly because it’d mean getting up at 3am), but beyond that, I’m open about my sideline career at work and at home. As my kids grow, we’re gradually introducing them to Daddy’s costumes, cosmetics, wigs and – crucially – his drag sisters, from Beijing’s only syndicated drag house – Haus of Lily.

My hope is that my ability to explore my female alter ego, my commitment to performance and showing others a good time, and my open, loving relationship with their baba will help my kids feel more confident to express themselves and their unique upbringing and family situation – freely and proudly. If, one day, my son or daughter wanted to show up to a school costume party in full drag, I’d support and encourage them – and also help prepare them for the reactions they might expect from others. Whatever their sexual orientations or gender identities, I hope they’ll be able to see the beauty of difference and unabashed self-expression, and view drag queens as warriors in the battle for social equality and personal freedom.

And we are indeed warriors. I like to think of drag as both weapon and armour. A six-foot-six man dressed as Cher has more power than anyone else in the room. But, like the best superheroes, a drag persona also hides your identity, protecting you and yours from the hate that sadly still stalk the streets. As myself, I might hesitate to kick a homophobe or creeper out of a gig. As Elizabeth, I’d kick them to the curb. Her heels are needle-sharp and heavier than they look – a bit like me.

There are practical challenges to being a parent and a drag performer. In most cases, drag is a nocturnal activity, so performing means missing bedtimes. And while that’d not be such a big deal with one kid, with twins it’s a lot to ask of my husband, so I intentionally limit my evening performances. Parents are tired all the time, so even when I do manage to totter onto the stage, as soon as the gig finishes I’m out of drag and on my way home as fast as possible. The other queens might not have to get up early but, rain or shine, drag or not, my kids have to be up at 6:30am. Whenever a brunch or daytime activity happens I’m delighted as not only do I get to hang with some of the best people I know in the city (my drag sisters), I can also bring my husband and kids along and share an important part of myself.

I think kids – and other people in general – can learn a lot from drag queens. Unlike other en-tertainers, we’re expected to not only craft flawless, unique looks with vibrant personality. We’re also expected to be able to lip-sync and/or sing live, MC, do comedy routines, dance, do gymnastics, schmooze with our audience, and show up on time, every time – and all this in six-inch heels. You have to be the most talented person in the room. This is why Haus of Lily fights hard for fair pay for drag queens. It’s hard work! We all have outside lives and we bust our butts to put on a show. When venues are offering a few hundred RMB and your makeup alone cost RMB 800, tell me – would you say yes?

People sometimes push back, arguing that, as community figures, we should perform for free. But we don’t ask for more than to have our expenses covered – many of our queens are impoverished students and without their drag paycheck, they’d have to give up. The rest of us have families and full-time jobs and need to keep the home fires burning. All the same, we regularly work with community organizations to help foster LGBTQ+ awareness and tolerance, and are looking for people interested in us doing drag queen story time in schools or preschools (a popular tradition in the US and UK) to help introduce the younger generation to diversity and the vibrancy of alternative cultures. All we ask is to be treated fairly, and with a bit of open-minded understanding.

Which brings me to my advice to the parents reading this. Always be open and honest with your kids about who you are – because if you’re not, they’ll still figure it out. Deep down, stripped of my lace-front wigs and Pat McGrath eyeshadow, I’m no different from any of you. My family is no different from yours. Parenthood is tiring, frustrating, complex, demanding – yet endlessly gratifying. But we all deserve to maintain the activities we love. J.K. Rowling was a suicidal single mother on welfare when she created Harry Potter. I’ve not only kept Elizabeth Stride alive, but I’ve helped her evolve into a more well-rounded, polished product because of the love and support of my family. Without that, she wouldn’t exist.

It’s important for all parents to accept that they could be a parent to a gay, bi, trans, nonbinary, nonconforming, or genderqueer kid who, one day, might want to do drag. Having parents who accept and embrace diversity in all its forms really helps these exceptional, beautiful, talented children to be comfortable in their own bodies; a safeguard against problems down the line. Gay kids are a high risk for addiction problems, depression and suicide, and the best outcomes are in families where they feel safe, loved, and supported to be exactly who they are.

You don’t need to put on a wig and heels to get that message across – just make sure your children know that. Whoever they are, whatever they want to do, you love, support, and take pride in them. I was fortunate in that regard, but lots of my sisters weren’t. It makes a difference. It saves lives.

But, by all means, if you fancy giving drag a go, look me up, and let’s add a splash of rainbow-tinted fabulous to the city our families share.

You never know. It might be your calling.

And that's a wrap folks! The beijingkids and Red Dog team with Elizabeth Stride. 

A special thanks to the team at Red Dog for letting us use their fabulous venue for this photoshoot.

Photos: Uni You

Hot Topics This Week