Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent: The Importance of Jewish Drag Queens

At 10:00 a.m every Saturday, I turn on RuPaul’s Drag Race and watch on my tiny iPhone screen as glamorous, witty, talented drag queens perform improv and lip sync to their original songs. During the NYC press week tour for RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 17, my first season watching in real time, fifth-place finisher Suzie Toot stepped out on stage in a shimmering silver column dress and gloves adorned with red-orange feathers representing candles. Her wingspan was the body of the menorah, her hat was the shamash, and for every night of Hanukkah, she added a “candle” to her outfit. I was drawn to Suzie Toot from the start of the season. When the first episode premiered, and she jauntily strutted into the workroom in her black and white 1920s-esque outfit while exclaiming, “I’ve always wanted my name in the papers” as her entrance line, I had a feeling she was destined to be my favorite. When she tap danced to the “Gettysburg Address” for her talent show, I knew I’d chosen correctly. When, at the end of the season, she revealed her cultural ties to Judaism with her iconic Hanukkah costume and unfortunate relegation to an ensemble role in her camp’s production of “Fiddler on the Roof” as a child, I identified with her more. The beauty of drag is that it’s unconventional, just like Judaism. Suzie was subverting even the most unconventional art form. Who else would think to tap dance the Gettysburg Address in Morse code? Watching Suzie and other Jewish queens like her helped me realize that Judaism lives not only in synagogues or rituals, but in performance, humor, recognition, and cultural memory. 

Suzie is the continuation of a rich history of Judaism in drag. While drag isn’t new to Jews, the art form rocketed into the mainstream narrative through Drag Race in the late 2010s. RuPaul brought drag into the mainstream, and the plethora of Jewish queens—whether or not they make Judaism a key part of their character or identity—are helping to energize the art of drag. Sasha Velor, the show’s Season 9 winner, explained in her book The Big Reveal: An Illustrated Manifesto of Drag that her glamorous Russian-Jewish Grandma Dina first inspired her to do drag. Miz Cracker, the Season 10 contestant and All Stars 5 runner-up, incorporates Judaism into much of her drag, referring to herself as a “Jewish Barbie on bath salts.” 

The relationship between Judaism and drag is natural. The art form of drag and the Judaism we know today are highly influenced by oppression that results in adapted practices and joyful resistance. Drag queens are often accused of being innately sexual and perpetuating misogyny, and some believe that doing drag in public spaces is a way of molesting children. Jewish people are often blamed for the death of Jesus and often labelled as “Christ-killers.” As a result, Jewish people and drag queens subvert the mainstream together, which is why so many drag queens find community in Judaism, and vice versa. 

What’s more, despite being a tiny community, Jewish people have been doing ‘drag’ for thousands of years. On Purim, the night when we are commanded by God to get so drunk that we cannot tell the difference between Haman and Mordechai, up and down, and male and female, men would often take on female roles during the Purim spiels. The flexible frameworks of Judaism and the belief that the Torah is a “living” text constantly being interpreted uplifts those who express their dedication to Judaism in non-normative ways. Deuteronomy 22:5 states that “there shall be no man’s item on a woman, and a man shall not wear a woman’s garment, for anyone who does these things is abhorrent to your God.” This is often interpreted as a denunciation of cross-dressing. However, it does not define what a “woman” or “man” is. It could also be taken as a gender-conformity rule where female-identifying people wear feminine clothing and male-identifying people wear more masculine clothing. All interpretations of this passage in Deuteronomy are valid, and the beauty of Judaism is that individuals may pick their own interpretations. However, the choice by many conservative Rabbis to take this passage literally shows how Judaism, like all religions, is very flawed. Judaism provided the language for Rabbis to make this decision. In my childhood, I viewed Judaism as a liberal force because I’d never been exposed to the other sides of it. However, ex-orthodox drag queens such as Lady SinAGaga are still fighting to diversify Jewish spaces. Maybe we need a man in a wig to point out Judaism’s shortcomings and encourage us to grow into a more accepting community where everyone feels free to express their true identities. In reality, the drag queen Pink Pancake, who wrote a one-person show entitled “Today You Are a Man” about his bar mitzvah, is just as Jewish as the ritual silence between handwashing and the hamotzi. 

In the workroom (or werkroom), drag queens find community by discussing the homophobia they faced in their childhood. Hours later, the queens strut down the runway. In discussions with my Jewish youth group, we similarly navigate paradoxical experiences, hopping from stories of ancient Jewish traditions to tales of antisemitism in our schools. As a reaction to the media circus around the death of Charlie Kirk, drag queen Lauren Banall created the character of “Erika Querk” and the organization “Turning Point U.S.GAY” to create inter-community strength by parodying conservatives. In response to the #StopJewishHate blue square campaign, my youth group, which pointed out how cliche the ad seemed and the comical default high school setting, and I created parody ads. Jews and drag queens have developed the same strategy for dealing with bigotry: humor as survival. 

The existence of Judaism within drag race, and RuPaul’s affection for it, brings Judaism into other aspects of my life. Yiddish has made its way into my everyday vernacular. I can’t help myself from sharing when a celebrity is Jewish if they come up, and I wrote a ten page paper on Jewish immigration to America during the Holocaust. I’ve even turned Drag Race, which shockingly does not prompt deep religious reflection, in the midst of Snatch Game, into something that radiates Jewish joy in addition to queer joy. 

Each queen who walks through the Werk Room doors represents the intersection of queer identity and their cultural heritage. Judaism appearing on Drag Race is just one of the many ways Judaism bridges culture and religion. There’s a certain feeling Jewish people get when we run into each other in public spaces. I felt that when I saw Suzie Toot, whom I clocked as Jewish from her very first confessional (private interviews where contestants share candid thoughts about the events of the show that are then interspersed to support the main narrative). It’s a quiet assessment that turns into a quickening of the heart rate and the brightening of the eyes that signals an instant connection. A connection that’s built on Graham Cracker sukkahs and reciting the morning prayer, Modeh Ani, in different melodies in temples around the world. 

My love for Suzie Toot and other Jewish queens exemplifies Judaism’s importance in my daily life and cultural perspectives. Beyond its influence on trivial things such as which days I take off work, through Drag Race, I’ve come to recognize that Judaism is interwoven into the media I consume and the hobbies I partake in. I don’t need to spend every moment in a Jewish space to be reminded of Judaism every day. I create that consistent connection. Other people don’t notice when All Stars 11 contestant LuckyStarzzzz brings up a Kosher diet, but I do. For me, connection to Judaism in a non-religious space, such as Drag Race, is more powerful than Judaism that only comes up when it’s prompted.