Drag queens are out, proud and loud in a range of coal towns, from a bingo hall to blue-collar bars
SHAMOKIN, Pa. (AP) — Deep in Pennsylvania coal country, the Daniels drag family engages in some sort of exuberance almost every weekend.
They host sold-out bingo fundraisers in the Nescopeck Township Volunteer Fire Co. social hall, filled with people of all ages roaring with laughter and singing along. Or they light up local working-class bars and restaurants with Mimosas & Heels Drag Brunches for bridal parties, members of the military, families and friends.
Or reading in gardens to children dressed in their Sunday clothes — Dolly Parton’s “Coat of Many Colors” is a favorite book for artists and children alike.
In a series of cities along a coal seam, the brilliance of drag queens and small-town kings colors a way of life rooted in soot, family, and a conservative understanding of the world.
Here two very old traditions mingle – and mostly happily, it seems, in contrast to the fierce political winds blowing at drag performances and the wider rights of LGBTQ+ people in red states from Utah and Texas to Tennessee and Florida.
A tradition is the view of the family as mother, father and children, plain and simple.
The other, back to pre-Shakespearian times, is drag, a loud, proud and seismically flamboyant artistic expression of gender fluidity. Not easy, not simple, but also rock solid, which only protrudes above the ground in culturally adventurous cities.
Yet the Daniels drag family is firmly woven into the fabric of the greater community in this area, where voters went decisively in favor of Donald Trump, a Republican, in the last election. Rather, their problems come from politicians increasingly passing laws that limit what they can do.
So far, no bans have surfaced to stand in the way of the Daniels family’s performances. A bill has been introduced in the Senate to ban drag shows in public places, but it remains stuck in committee with little prospect.
Alexus Daniels, the matriarch, was the child of a miner and a textile worker who was “born with a female spirit”. She works at the local hospital as an MRI assistant.
Jacob Kelley, who performs as transvestite Trixy Valentine, is an LGBTQ+ activist and educator with a master’s degree in human sexuality.
Harpy Daniels, Trixy’s twin brother, is a United States Navy sailor who has served three times on the aircraft carrier USS Ronald Reagan. Soon that sailor, Petty Officer 1st Class Joshua Kelley, who just re-enlisted, moves from a base in Norfolk, Virginia, to a base in Spain, with plans to bring a wig “and maybe one or two cute outfits but nothing over the top” for Harpy-style Coastal Leave.
Aside from the twins, the drag performers in this circle are family by choice, not genes. Theirs is an oasis of connection.
“I never had anyone like me growing up,” said Trixy, “and now I get to be that for everyone.
“There was a curse of being a strange person in a country town – the curse is that we will move … because there is no one here like us, there is no one who can understand us.”
And drag now can be a place or an thing to show people like you that you don’t have to go to the cities. It’s right here in your backyard.”
The Associated Press followed the Daniels family for over a year. Amongst them:
Alexus Daniels, transvestite
Daniels’ first memory is of her great-grandmother’s jewelry box. As Cyndi Lauper and the Pointer Sisters bang, she wrapped herself in knit blankets to lip sync and dance for her family. “I had no idea it was drag or gay,” she says. “I was just having a day!”
Alexus attended high school and upped her Halloween game. She soon made her first drag performance in the small Pennsylvania coal town of Weishample.
“I wasn’t sure at this point,” says Alexus. “I wasn’t even sure if I was gay. I knew I was attracted to guys and loved all things feminine! I kept this side of myself to myself and my best friends growing up, who really didn’t see anything strange about it.
Trixy Valentine, aka Jacob Kelley, transvestite
In their teens, Joshua was the first to start dragging. Jacob started about six months later, in a white Marilyn Monroe dress at an amateur pageant in 2014.
Trixy’s drag style is eclectic, but whether silly or fierce, there’s glitter: “I just want to shine when the light hits me.”
“I came out as a non-binary a few years ago because I was starting to learn what I love about dragging?” says Kelley. “It’s that femininity, that touch so simple.”
“I’m not a man,” says Kelley. “I will never see myself as a man. And I don’t see myself as a woman either. But I see myself as more than that.”
In March, the Daniels drag family hosted bingo at the Nescopeck fire station, packed with more than 300 people in a fundraiser for a nearby theater.
A small group of protesters could be watched on social media from the bingo hall, holding signs and praying the rosary facing the theater. Trixy addressed the bingo audience.
“There are hundreds of us in this room and only nine of them on that street,” Trixy said. “So all I have to say is I don’t care what you believe. But don’t shove it down my throat and tell me I shouldn’t be here because you think I’m wrong.
“The Lord also gave birth to me.”
Trixy wore a long blue wig and Morgan Wells catsuit with an overskirt, a raised fist in the colors of the Pride flag on the chest.
“Okay, let’s call some numbers!” Trixy said. “Let’s Play Some Bingo!” The crowd cheered.
Harpy Daniels, a.k.a. Joshua Kelley, United States Navy First Class Petty Officer, drag queen
Until 2011, the armed forces enforced the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, under which LGBTQ+ people were only accepted if they expressed their sexual orientation.
But after Kelley joined in 2016, he encountered the opposite: call it “ask and tell.” A commander asked which pronoun they preferred. Joshua, relieved by the acceptance implied by the question, told him that any pronoun will do.
Now the sailor is a social media sensation who has been named a “digital ambassador” by the Navy, reaching out to the LGBTQ+ community and others who have been marginalized: “I am very proud to wear this uniform.”
Kitty DeVil, aka Emily Poliniak, transvestite
Kitty, a trans woman, describes her drag style as “punk and story-telling.” Her inspiration: Adore Delano, a 2014 finalist on “RuPaul’s Drag Race.”
“She was what I wanted to be — this badass punk girl who looks gorgeous without sacrificing her style,” says Kitty.
Kitty says her performances are energetic fun, but also “a lighthouse.”
“Because even in our LGBTQ community, there are outcasts and people who don’t feel like they’re like anyone else,” says Kitty. “So I wanted to make a beacon for all those people who feel weird and feel different and can’t really find their place in society.”
Xander Valentine, aka Gwen Bobbie, drag king
More than a decade after being transfixed by seeing her first drag show, Xander was invited by Trixy to join the drag family.
Xander has both an energetic, family-friendly side and a sexy, sultry side. Confusing people about gender is intentional, a barrier breaker.
“I try to create a consistent theme of masculinity in my performances,” says Xander. ”Although I paint my face, wear wigs and decorate myself with rhinestones, I usually perform to songs sung by men and tailor my costumes more to suits and ties.
“My personal goal as king is to make the public question my gender identity offstage.”
Why? It’s to get the message across, says Xander, that “it’s okay not to immediately know how someone identifies or who they’re attracted to, and still be nice to them.
“It’s OK to accept someone as different, even if you don’t quite get it.”
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Woodward reported from Washington. Associated Press writer Lynn Berry contributed to this report from Washington.
