Nevertheless, seeing preteens involved in drag shows—an age-old staple of LGBTQ culture, often performed in gay clubs—makes a lot of people uncomfortable. Critics have accused Desmond’s mother of allowing her son’s sexualization and exploitation. After another preteen boy performed drag in Ohio, state Republicans proposed legislation barring these performances, linking them, without evidence, to child trafficking.
Over time, American society has been steadily making peace with gay adults, gay marriages, even gay political candidates. Yet it still broadly pretends that people are straight until, at some point after age 18, they proclaim themselves otherwise. Parents and schools have long recognized the need to accommodate nascent heterosexuality in wholesome ways—for instance, by organizing school dances and providing basic education about how the reproductive system works. Queerness, in contrast, is widely understood to be inherently and only sexual; by this logic, all things LGBTQ should be relegated to adult spaces, preventing children’s premature sexualization. This explains why the backlash to preteen drag performers like Desmond has been so fierce—and why so many queer kids, with their difference manifesting as awkwardness, are forced to tread the rough waters of adolescence with no social support.
Read: Tracing the internal queer revolution
When I was 7 or 8 years old, the mother of a classmate visited my Manhattan school, offering to paint the girls’ fingernails. Despite loving the New York Jets and being, in many ways, a traditionally masculine boy, I wanted my nails adorned similarly, not understanding or caring that this adornment was a female-only privilege. And while both the teacher and this parent cautioned me against it, telling me something like “This is for girls,” I was stubborn. Eventually, they agreed to paint my nails, but only with a clear coat––probably to prevent my being mocked. This well-meaning effort failed, and the derision from my fellow students sent the clear message that certain feminine behaviors were to be avoided. Still, my vague gender nonconformity continued through childhood: I certainly tried on somebody’s high heels at some point; I clamored for female family members’ jewelry, wondering how their necklaces and bracelets would look on me; I was absolutely obsessed with my mother’s engagement ring.
“Should I have known you were gay based on that?” she asked me not long ago, half-jokingly. To which science replies: Probably.
Numerous studies have shown that children who eventually come out as gay, lesbian, or bisexual—scientists call them pre-homosexual, or pre-GLB kids—demonstrate more childhood gender nonconformity in their speech, body language, and choice of activity than their pre-straight contemporaries do. These reports have also produced evidence of a “dosage effect”: The more gender nonconformity someone shows in childhood, the more likely they will identify as gay, lesbian, or bisexual as an adult.