No Kings but DRAG Kings
“No Kings, but What About Us?” – Holding Space for Drag Kings in a No Kings World
by Max E. Pad
So let’s talk about it: No Kings Day.
First of all, let me be loud and clear — I support the No Kings movement. Fully. Wholeheartedly. No Kings Day was born out of radical protest, a call to challenge monarchies, colonialism, and patriarchal systems that have done harm for generations. It’s about de-centering traditional male power and saying, We don’t need rulers — we need equity, we need liberation. Our president is ruining democracy, and it’s not just him… that administration’s incompetence is staggering, and terrifying. We must fight the oligarchy!
Hell yes to all of that.
But also… hi. I’m a drag king.
So No Kings Day came up and my mentions start popping off with all of the posts that say “No kings” and the “No Kings, Yaaasss Queen” and I get a little whiplash. Not because I disagree with the message — but because for those of us who perform masculinity as art, as commentary, as queerness, the coincidence of the movement being “no kings” and the perpetual minimizing of drag kings is… kinda funny. Kinda sad. And very, very ironic.
Like, of course there’s a movement called No Kings… look at the president right now! He is ignoring the legislative branch and members of the judicial branch are ending up in handcuffs!!! There are no checks and balances, and the supreme court recently ruled that the president won’t be charged criminally for acts while in office… Of course there is a movement. It’s only been half a year and he has already caused so much damage that we can’t keep up, he has activated the military against citizens, deported innocent people, activated the National Guard without permission, and yesterday, bombed Iran without consulting with Congress – which puts the US right in the middle of that war. So of course there is a No Kings movement… And it has nothing to do with drag kings and everything to do with a man trying to run the country as a monarchy.
That said, many of us in drag are also involved in activism. We as drag kings are told that queens are necessary to bring in a crowd and we are constantly competing for the one king slot in the next show.
No Kings is a statement about power and democracy, but it still somehow leaves drag kings out of the conversation.
Now, I know that’s not the intention. And I’m not trying to rain on the revolutionary parade, I am joining it!!! The No Kings movement is valid and absolutely necessary. But there’s space here for a deeper conversation about how phrases like “No Kings, YAS queen” unintentionally erase the very people who are challenging harmful masculinity through art and drag in brilliant, thoughtful, and boundary-breaking ways.
Drag kings have always existed in the in-between — in the cracks of queer visibility, in the margin notes of drag history. We’re the gender-bending punks, the soulful storytellers, the mustachioed mischief-makers. We turn masculinity inside out, hold it up to the light, and say, Look how ridiculous this all is. And yet, we are still fighting just to be seen in the very community that should be celebrating us.
So here’s my take: No Kings Day is for drag kings, too — if we make it so.
Let’s acknowledge and honor the movement. Let’s use the irony to open up space for conversation. Let’s lean into that paradox: no kings — but also, yes drag kings. Yes to gender play. Yes to dismantling toxic masculinity not by hiding it, but by mocking it, queering it, satirizing it until it loses its grip.
Because if anyone understands the absurdity of patriarchal power, it’s the person painting on sideburns to lip-sync to a Randy Rainbow parody while in a three-piece suit made of rhinestones.
And that’s exactly what I tried to do— to lean into the irony and use it as fuel for creativity. I created a performance piece specifically for No Kings Day. I built a mix that opened with news clips from the No Kings protest march — passionate, angry, hopeful voices demanding change and Racheal Maddow stating that this “government wants to rule by force” and that “we will rise together and say that we reject political violence, we reject fear as governance”. From there, I cut into a parody of King George’s number from Hamilton — that had lyrics that imply the fall of democracy, the collapse of systems built on ego and control. And I performed it all dressed like a literal king — staff, crown, robe, and all.
The whole piece was dripping with contradiction. A drag king, dressed as royalty, calling out power structures while embodying them — it was satire with a wink and a gut punch. And for me, it felt like the most honest way to participate in the moment. I didn’t want to reject the movement. I wanted to join it — in the only way I know how: through performance, parody, and purposeful queer art.
That’s the beauty of drag — we get to live in the contradictions. We get to challenge the system from within the wig. We get to wear the crown, mock the crown, throw the crown offstage, and then lip-sync to a political remix. That’s power. That’s play. That’s drag.
So yes — No Kings. No colonial rulers. No corporate overlords. No military parade birthday parties. No men on golden thrones dictating how we live and love.
But also, yes to drag kings. Yes to queer joy. Yes to reclaiming space. Yes to the art of masculinity in all its glittery, goofy, gender-expanding glory. Yes to this king that will get on stage and yell loudly NO KINGS to encourage and motivate everyone to use their voices and resources to fight oppression.
We are not the oppressors in question. We’re goofballs that are holding a mirror to them.
And if you want to help shift the narrative, here’s how:
Book drag kings. Not just one. Not just as a “wild card.” Book us with intention. Feature us. Center us.
Boost our visibility. Share our reels, our flyers, our work. When you see a king killing it on stage, tell people. Word of mouth matters.
Learn our history. Kings have always been here — from theater stages to underground clubs. We’ve shaped drag culture more than most realize.
Talk about us. In media, in conversations, in the way you educate others about drag. The more people hear about kings, the less they forget we exist.
This No Kings Day reminded me just how far we still have to go — but also how far we’ve come. Because this year, I didn’t sit quietly and scroll past all the posts that felt like a double meaning. I got up, joined a No Kings march, then painted my face, got on stage, and I made noise. And people listened.
So I’m not offended by the movement. I’m just aware of how deeply the phrasing echoes our ongoing invisibility. And instead of sitting in that silence, I’m choosing to speak — or rather, to perform.
Because if no one else is gonna hand us the mic, you better believe we’re gonna grab it ourselves.
May we all continue to challenge systems, uplift artists, and make space for every crown — especially the queer ones.
NO KINGS, ONLY DRAG KINGS
