By Alyssa Riley
B-I-N-G-O, You’ve Got a Drag
“Drag is an art form, and I think any art form can either rub some people the wrong way or bring some people together.”
Bryan Duncan
A lottery channel, SpongeBob SquarePants, and the Providence v. UCONN men’s basketball game is playing on the televisions stationed around the dining space of Mojo’s Pints and Pies. It’s seven at night and a few loners sit at the bar, evenly spaced, nursing their craft beers. Employees continue their distribution of pizzas, fries, and fried chicken wings from the kitchen’s ‘order-up’ window to the sticky, red and white checkered tabletops. From the bathroom nestled in the farthest back corner of the establishment springs Taylor Madison Monroe as ‘Shake it Off’ by Taylor Swift blares from the speakers; she is clad in higher-than-the-moon heels strapped onto 11-inch feet and a sequined, specially-made costume that catches everyone’s eye.
Taylor Madison Monroe writing her signature on the back of a bingo card for Charity Krulder, 22, a senior studying history at the University of Arkansas, at Drag Bingo at Mojo’s Pints & Pies. Photo by Alyssa Riley. Feb. 22, 2023.
Her wig, chopped at a pixie length, is so extraordinarily pink that beneath the dim lights it starts to resemble the red bingo markers scattered on every table. She makes her way to each patron – shaking, shimmying, and sashaying at every chance – obtaining $1s and $5s from eager hands. A group of men in steel-toed boots and dirt-stained jeans suddenly make their exit once the performance ends. Taylor, joined by her co-host, Inertia the Movement, alerts the audience that drag bingo would soon begin.
“We’re drag entertainers; if we’re not pissing someone off, we’re doing it wrong. ‘We’re not appropriate’, ‘We’re not Christian’, blah, blah, blah. No one tells Taylor Madison Monroe no!”
The objective is acquiring a straight line, all four corners, or the top and bottom rows of numbers underneath B-I-N-G-O. First, an excited 50-year-old woman speed-walks to the stage to receive her $20 gift card to Funky Flea Market. The next winner, Bryan Duncan, with a bald head but a beard that could sweep the floor, makes his way to the stage to accept his prize – a fishbowl-sized goblet still packaged in its box.
Bryan Duncan, with his wife next to him sipping out of the said goblet that they quickly unboxed, shouts over the next round of numbers being called that this is where they had their first date so many years ago. “We love it here; we love the drag shows and we always make it over,” Duncan said. “Drag is an art form, and I think any art form can either rub some people the wrong way or bring some people together.”
A drag performance and one more round of bingo later, Clint Mott fills the line across the top of his card and excitedly bounds to the stage to collect his blooming onion coupon to Texas Roadhouse. Taylor excitedly says into the microphone, “Oh no, honey, you have to get the TOP and the BOTTOM!”
Miming faux embarrassment but remaining enthralled with the game at hand, he orders two shots of tequila while telling me that these events are all about personality and outcasts, and that is why he believes some people, like the ones who walked out after the first performance, oppose drag shows; “People like us, we thrive in situations like this. It’s the outcasts.”
From Kid to Psychiatrist, “I’m Gay!”
Jeremy Stuthard’s childhood, a.k.a. Taylor Madison Monroe, can mostly be categorized under the strictness of an ‘Air Force Brat’, with his father in the military and his mother a teacher. He was born in Honolulu, Hawaii in 1983 but his family moved two years later to Little Rock Air Force base where he lived out his forming years.
Perfection was not demanded but certainly expected. It was understood that his schoolwork would come first and be done to the best of his ability, which he excelled at, being a consistent honor-roll student and graduating seventh in his class. After schoolwork, his parents pushed him to be involved in extracurricular activities. Bowling, soccer, dancing; you name it and he was doing it.
Jeremey Stuthard as a young boy, sitting on the counter in the kitchen of his childhood home. Photo courtesy of Jeremy Stuthard.
Jeremey Stuthard as a young boy, posing for a photograph on a merry-go-round. Photo courtesy of Jeremy Stuthard.
In 2002, Jeremy’s senior year at North Little Rock High School, anonymous online journals were all the rage among his peers, and he was no exception. One day, although his friends already knew, he made his first post, announcing, “I’m a senior at North Little Rock High School, and I’m gay.” Little did he know, parental controls were enabled on his computer, so as he continued with his new fad for months, his mother was reading every post; “She was following along with the journey.”
He recalls the months his mother toted him around to different psychiatrists, which he knew was an effort to try to change his sexual identity. While that seemingly non-acceptance would stick with most teenagers, Jeremy understood it as most parents’ initial reaction. To this day, he doesn’t blame her.
After all, he was a “momma’s boy.” He didn’t know what marijuana was and had never tasted a sip of alcohol; he described himself to me then as a tattle-tale momma’s boy growing up in a conservative, Christian household. “But it changed everything when she found out I was gay.”
Jeremy Stuthard in his North Little Rock High School marching band uniform, about to perform in 2002, his senior year. Photo courtesy of Jeremy Stuthard.
The psychiatrists he visited gave his mother the answers she sought, except for one who Jeremy still feels a great deal of gratitude for. “I sat down to talk to him, and he said ‘Okay, so you’re gay. I’m going to tell your mom what she wants to hear, and that way, she stops taking you to all these psychiatrists. And we’re just going to talk about school or whatever else; it’ll be fine’. He kind of robbed my mother of $5,000,” he said, chuckling.
As for his military man of a father, it was Jeremy’s aunt, Linda Stuthard, who helped him cope with the newfound knowledge. Her family had long come to terms with her being a lesbian, so his dad turned to her when questioning how to navigate his son’s preferences. Once she passed on June 18, 2014 – Jeremy made an online journal post that day – his father lost the person with whom he confided everything, and the acceptance became harder.
However, “They came around and they realized just to love your son for who he is. That’s all they could possibly do,” he said.
It wasn’t until Jeremy moved to Fayetteville to attend the University of Arkansas in 2003 that he found himself becoming who he wanted and was meant to be.
The Presidential Performer
Jeremy found his niche in drag during Halloween of ’03. Being a freshman in college studying music education, he was too young to gain admittance into the local gay bars, so Jeremy and his friends started throwing house parties where everyone had to dress up in the opposite sex – “Drag, basically.” This was his introduction into drag, but once he turned the infamous 21, he began performing at every bar he could get his manicured hands on.
By virtue of his obsession with presidents, Jeremy was coined as Taylor Monroe by a close friend. As he was in Springfield, Missouri one day, he noticed three streets, side by side, named Taylor, Madison, and Monroe. “That really rolled off the tongue, so it developed into a presidential thing and that became my brand.” He even hosted a show called ‘Taylor Madison Monroe and the First Lady’.
With some performances under his belt, Jeremy couldn’t help taking it to the next level by diving head-first into the world of drag pageants. Miss Gay United States pageants, first held in 1986, according to USofA Pageants, are open to any biological man of 21 years of age. “Pageants were everything in the beginning; it’s how you showed your growth and game, what you were made of and your talent,” he said.
He began by winning Miss Tulsa in 2005, and then went on to compete and win Miss Springfield that same year, Miss Northwest Arkansas, Miss Queen City, Miss Little Rock, and Miss Cosmopolitcan in 2006, Miss Cape Girardeau in 2008, and Miss Gay Arkansas in 2011.
After competing for seven years, in 2012 Jeremy, or rather, Taylor Madison Monroe won Miss Gay United States. Arkansas was ecstatic to have a national title holder, he said; the first ever Gay Miss U.S. won by Miss Arkansas, “And we hold tight to that history, but it’s interesting with S.B. 43 going on right now.”
The First Legislation
“Who’s going to be the judge of that? It’s all so open to interpretation, and, really, it’s a nonsense law. It really is.”
Jeremy Stuthard
Senate Bill 43 is an Arkansas act that was filed January 9 to add restrictions to adult-oriented businesses and performances. The bill says, “Adult-oriented performance means a performance that is intended to appeal to the prurient interest,” that features and exposes certain nudity – biological or prosthetic – allows a minor in attendance, or receives funds passed through a governmental body. Additionally, drag performances may not occur on public property.
Initially, S.B. 43 targeted drag performers with an intent to punish and confine their provision of entertainment, but on January 30, the Arkansas House rewrote the bill, removing the term “drag” completely. Since then, the drag community has been more confused than ever, as they’re unaware of what they can and cannot do.
For Jeremy, the biggest confusion is the separation of church and state and the effect it will have on local businesses since adult-oriented businesses cannot be within 1,000 feet of a church, school, public park, and walking trail – a spider’s web that reaches every corner of northwest Arkansas.
“What if I visit a supermarket; I have an audience of two people while I’m singing a song in my head, shaking my finger, dancing around to a tune and a police officer thinks it’s a sexual move and arrests me,” Jeremy said. “Who’s going to be the judge of that? It’s all so open to interpretation, and, really, it’s a nonsense law. It really is.”
The bill, despite its briefness and lack of limitations and violation outcomes, was made Act 131 on February 27.
Headshot of Taylor Madison Monroe; this was the second outfit that he wore at drag bingo. Photo courtesy of Jeremy Stuthard.
He argues that while drag performances can be somewhat vulgar at times, that only ever occurs in age-restrictive bars. Some have raised the concern over drag performances at elementary schools for ‘Drag Story Hour’, but he guarantees this only ever takes place at public libraries; “The drag performers I know have tact and couth. When I do the drag queen story hour, I do it as Elsa [character from ‘Frozen’], and they go nuts because they think I’m actually her.”
A Pandemic of Anti-Transgender Bills
“That they’re “doing it in the name of the bible” or to protect the kids makes no sense. It’s just a full-out attack when they don’t even understand that it’s more and more oppression.”
Jeremy Stuthard
Being the first bill of Arkansas’ 93rd legislation, Jeremy believes it to be a “testing the waters” bill of what they can get away with; there are more coming down the pipeline to “attack the LGBTQIA.”
Accordingly, Arkansas’ Senate Bill 270 will illegalize any person – mostly of transgender identity – to knowingly remain in a bathroom of the opposite sex while a minor is present. Opponents are arguing that this bill would put transgender people at risk for simply using bathrooms they identify with when there are much bigger issues at hand.
“There are over 40,000 foster kids in the state of Arkansas; what are they doing about that?” Jeremy asked. “We are 47th in the state for infant mortality; maybe they should look at that. Maybe we should invest in education where we are 46th in the nation. That they’re “doing it in the name of the bible” or to protect the kids makes no sense. It’s just a full-out attack when they don’t even understand that it’s more and more oppression.”
Headshot of Taylor Madison Monroe. Photo courtesy of Jeremy Stuthard.
Arkansans are not alone with legislation like S.B. 43; these LGBTQIA-restrictive bills appear to be a national trend as every state, except for 13 – Alabama, California, Delaware, D.C., Illinois, Louisiana, Massachusetts, Nevada, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Vermont, and Wisconsin – have passed anywhere from one to 35 bills attacking LGBTQIA rights.
Kentucky Senate recently passed S.B. 150, which would force teachers to divulge LGBTQIA students’ identity to parents, allow them and students to misgender other students, and prohibit schools from endorsing policies on pronoun use.
Also in Kentucky, House Bill 470 restricts underage gender transition and healthcare services, name and sex change on birth certificates to aid in social or physical gender transition, school-based mental health service providers, and more.
Arkansas, Texas, and Kentucky are not alone, according to ACLU Organization, as 378 nationwide anti-transgender bills have been created thus far in 2023; originating mostly in southern and eastern states.
The Human Rights Campaign quoted Democrat Kentucky Sen. Karen Berg, who said, “Your vote yes on this bill means one of two things: Either you believe that trans children do not exist, or you believe that trans children do not deserve to exist. I can tell you these children exist.”
Calling in Reinforcements
“That’s kind of a historical problem with this nation; a lot of people use their religious morals to try and push certain ideologies, and that’s just not cool.”
Blake Gordon
On August 28, 2022, an age-appropriate drag brunch was held at the Anderson Distillery and Grill in Roanoke, Texas, but what started as an exciting morning with 20 children in attendance with their teachers ended with a protest and counter-protest.
Protect Texas Kids, an organization that “protects kids” from so-called toxic environments that influence identities, development, and values, called its supporters to protest the event outside the restaurant. In response, Elm Fork John Brown Gun Club, a group that aids minority communities, showed up clad in armed masks and weapons.
This incident gripped the nation’s attention as photographs and videos circulated on the Internet. Although the owner of the restaurant didn’t comment to news outlets, his Facebook post denied any cursing, sexual content or erotic behavior at the brunch – the prurient interest that Arkansas legislators fretted over in S.B. 43.
In June of 2022, before this incident, Texas legislation was introduced to prevent minors’ attendance at drag shows after another event with children went viral. It seems Arkansas is simply following in its footsteps.
“I understand, I do, trying to keep kids away from adult nudity in spaces that are inherently sexualized, so keep them away from those places, but you’re not going to be able to keep them away from all of it,” said Blake Gordon, who performs drag as Regina Whoreage in northwest Arkansas. “I’m not going to say that the basement of C4 [local LGBTQIA-focused bar] is a place for children, but drag queens go to public libraries to talk to children. I think it’s important to have lots of diversity throughout our childhoods and to figure out who you are.”
“That’s kind of a historical problem with this nation; a lot of people use their religious morals to try and push certain ideologies, and that’s just not cool,” he said. “It doesn’t go with the kind of sentiment that Americans hold, that we are individuals who are allowed to think how we think and do what we please as long as it doesn’t harm anyone. How do drag shows harm people?”
Man! I Feel Like a Woman
The sequins, jewels, and fringe on the bodice of her gold dress shimmered like millions of pieces of broken glass caught by the sunlight as Taylor Madison Monroe moved across the stage of Fayetteville’s Club Xanadu in 2015. She was styled to an absolute tee; her blonde wig, cascading in ringlets with the help of hair curlers and masses of hairspray, bobbed around as she strutted across the stage; her makeup was that of an elite celebrity, with her cheekbones cut to a sharp edge and her eyelids smoked out with shades of silver and black; her faux eyelashes could reach the moon.
As the speakers blared Shania Twain’s “Man! I Feel Like a Woman,” the enthralled audience sang, “Oh, oh, oh, get in the action, feel the attraction,” along with her lip-sync performance. Suddenly, her show became a mashup as “If I Were a Boy” by Beyoncé protruded from the speakers. She began peeling away her charade; the wig came off, then the costume. As the crowd cheered in admiration, there was nothing left but a pair of underwear, a buzzed head and the still-pristine layer of makeup to admire. Her bare, male chest moved to the beat as she pulled on a pair of black pants and collected her cash from the audience.
Jeremy’s life takes on the characteristics of this iconic 2015 performance. Similar to how he strips Taylor Madison Monroe away, Jeremy strips down his theory of what sexuality and gender fluidity means to him. Being gay and a drag performer is much more than sexual dancing and lip syncing; to him, he is owning that, yes, he is a biological male and dresses up as a woman to perform for audiences, but he does it to celebrate what freedom of expression means to him, and that is being whoever he wants to be in whatever form he chooses.
No children were in attendance. No children were there to witness his prosthetic breasts or “erotic” dancing.
Since then, Jeremy still pulls this performance out of his sleeve; it is a crowd-favorite, after all, he told me. “People will still request it, but now I’ve started exploring the idea of doing the opposite – starting out as Jeremy and getting into drag during the show.”
Whatever Happened to Freedom of Expression?
“As conservative as they are, it has always been little government interference and more freedom. This bill is doing the exact opposite; little freedom, more government interference.”
Jeremy Stuthard
In an attempt to repair what Jeremy sees as great damage done to the LGBTQIA community, he has worked for NWA Equality since 2009, the U of A’s alumni association to raise scholarship money for LGBTQIA students, and participates in charity projects to help the community.
On April 3, NWA Equality is hosting its biggest drag bingo charity event to discuss current issues and decisions with the legislature, but “A lot is going on behind the scenes that people don’t know about,” Jeremy told me about NWA Equality’s advocacy plans.
Headshot of Taylor Madison Monroe. Photo courtesy of Jeremy Stuthard.
The Intransitive Organization in Springdale works to advance the cause of Transgender liberation through advocacy, art, education, culture, and organizing to push for systemic change in Arkansas.
Rumba Yambú, executive director and co-founder of Intransitive, said, “We have been leading the fight against the anti-trans bills in Arkansas this session and the last one, as well. Although S.B. 43 was labeled a “drag bill,” it was actually an attempt to criminalize transgender people; it’s been in line with the wave of attacks we’ve been facing and continue to face.”
The 2022 and 2023 legislative sessions are certainly not the beginning of drag and LGBTQIA oppression and likely won’t be the last. As a southern drag queen, Jeremy has experienced oppression firsthand simply for who he is and will always be.
It was 2005 and he had just finished a performance at a local club and was about to head home when he realized he had left his costumes inside. Still done up in his stage makeup, Jeremy noticed bar-hoppers exiting Club West across the street who also noticed him. They immediately headed toward him, clearly intoxicated, and began banging on his car – windows, passenger door, the hood. They were relentless.
“I was fearing for my life, so I started to back up, but what happened was I accidentally backed over one of them,” he said.
From his experience, it wasn’t often in the mid-2000s that people walked Dickson Street in drag, especially on a Friday or Saturday night, so that was his first real run-in with hate; “I’ve been called faggot walking down the street, but you just have to let that roll off your shoulders because they are immature people who don’t understand.”
Unsurprisingly, nothing ever came from this incident, no fallout. “They didn’t report it because they were the ones committing a hate crime, but I do think maybe he broke his leg or something,” Jeremy said. “But they didn’t report it.”
Although the term “drag” was removed from S.B. 43, LGBTQIA Arkansans are worried for their future and rightfully so; the bill doesn’t contain enough depth for anyone to accurately say what lies ahead. However, many like Jeremy are holding out hope that their community can endure, if not stop these bills from doing more irreparable damage.
Headshot of Taylor Madison Monroe. Photo courtesy of Jeremy Stuthard.
“The bottom line is – what I have said at my shows in the past – we live in a land where we are free to show our art and choose to go places we want to go, so if you don’t want your kids to see a drag show, don’t take them,” Jeremy said. “It’s not like we’re doing pop-up shows at the mall; it’s very well-known and promoted that there’s going to be a drag show.”