On an otherwise typical Monday at the University of Texas at Austin, students rushing down Speedway paused for something far more vibrant than their typical campus existence—drag makeup. As a bold statement of protest, students lined up to be glamorized by more than a dozen drag performers as part of the Day of Drag, an event organized to protest the UT System’s recent drag show ban on university-hosted events.
The student-run event welcomed students to attend class in full drag, rendering the ordinary, extraordinary. Bedazzled in rhinestones, glitter, and neon colors, students made a powerful statement: queer expression belongs on campus.
A Creative Response to a Statewide Crackdown
The demonstration is amid a rising wave of bans on LGBTQ+ events and rights in Texas. In March, the University of Texas System Board of Regents voted to approve a policy banning drag shows from being sponsored or hosted by any of its universities. The move followed similar bans by Texas A&M and the University of North Texas systems.
Texas A&M’s ban was just days in front of its annual drag show, Draggieland, and organizers were forced to scramble. The Queer Empowerment Council, the student group caught off guard, partnered with the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE) to fight the policy in court. On March 24, a federal judge preliminarily enjoined the ban, saying that the students were likely to prevail on First Amendment grounds.
“Those who are offended by the show or the performers have an easy remedy: don’t go,” Judge Lee Rosenthal wrote in her ruling.
Three days later, Draggieland occurred as planned.
Drag as Protest and Pride
At UT-Austin, student Isabella Thomas, a government and Spanish major, organized the Day of Drag after she noticed no official response to the university’s drag ban. Unlike at A&M, UT’s ban was issued as a statement—a non-resolution—so it was harder to fight legally.
Thomas saw a creative loophole: while the policy banned performances, it didn’t ban drag altogether. So she got approval from the Dean of Students to host an event encouraging students to simply wear drag, not perform it.
“We’re definitely pushing the line a little bit,” Thomas said. “But we’re not actually crossing it.”
Students cycled throughout the day through a makeup station where drag artists applied everything from pastel glitter to dramatic contouring. One graduate student, Savvy Cornett, had sparkly blue eyeshadow and couldn’t wait to model it in the animal physiology class they teach. “This is a dream come true,” Cornett said.
Drag performer Brigitte Bandit, dressed in pink, blue, and white chaps for the trans flag, was also at the event. She read from Sasha Velour’s memoir The Big Reveal at story time and performed to Chappell Roan’s “Pink Pony Club.”
“Whenever they try to ban drag, we just get students in drag, bitch,” Bandit said. “Ain’t nothing illegal going on here. We’re just having fun.”
Community in the Face of Legislation
The drag ban is just one facet of a broader assault on LGBTQ+ visibility and rights in Texas. Senate Bill 12—which would have criminalized “sexually oriented” drag performances in front of minors—was found to be unconstitutional last year. However, Republican lawmakers are still pushing analogous bills.
Senate Bill 18, passed during this session, threatens to defund public libraries that conduct story hours with individuals presenting as “the opposite sex.” Senate Bill 17, which was signed into law already, banned Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) offices at public universities, resulting in the closure of resources like UT-Austin’s Gender and Sexuality Center.
Isabella Thomas noted the weight of these changes: “There’s more pressure on students now to take the lead. We’re having to take on extra work just to keep space for our community.”
At Texas A&M, the Queer Empowerment Council has stepped in to host events previously supported by the shut-down Pride Center, like Lavender Graduation. Event chair and student organization Transcend member Alex Gonce further said that the Council has also been a valuable location of activism. “Having a central place to go to make our voices heard has been really good,” Gonce said.
Joy as Resistance
For many, drag isn’t just performance—it’s a wellspring of joy and identity. Arwyn Heilrayne, a Day of Drag organizer, twirled around campus in a “Moo Deng Says Trans Rights” shirt and glittery makeup. “Movements are only ever maintained through joy,” Heilrayne said. “So we need to have joy as much as we can.”
That was echoed by Zoey Gonzales, who cut being on time to class for bold red and pink eyeshadow. “This is more important than my classes right now,” she said. “If I, as a trans person, won’t be here to fight for my rights, then who will?”
To Thomas, drag is more than a form of protest—it’s a reason to hope. She sees that hope on a weekly basis at Brigitte Bandit’s “LegiSLAYtion & Liberation” show in downtown Austin. “I do feel hopeful for the future,” she said. “And that’s not something I say easily. But those two hours, I think we’ll get through this.”
Even if Day of Drag is a one-time thing, Thomas believes in its impact: “Celebrating queerness on campus, celebrating the artistic merit of drag—these moments remind students they’re not alone. That someone out there loves them unconditionally.”
