December 1, 2024
Groups of college-aged girls laugh and sing along to the pop hits playing. They hold their drinks close to their chests and move just wobbly enough to be considered intoxicated.
Older men lean into young guys. They try to have a more intimate conversation in the rambunctious setting, hoping for a slight chance they could go home together. Audience members adorn mesh tank tops, fishnet tights and black platform boots tall enough to do some serious damage.
The purple glow of stage lights bathes the packed room of The Spotlight Theater, tucked away in the back corner of Legends Nightclub. The four walls are bursting at the seams as people stand and sit wherever they can, eager for the show. At the center, a large screen lists the night’s performers, casting a bright glow over the small stage that awaits them.
The air conditioner is working overtime to account for the number of people causing goosebumps to appear on every inch of exposed skin in the room, but there is a sense of warmth. Every kid that was considered “weird” growing up finds a home in this audience.
Everything goes pitch black as a big booming voice shatters the momentary silence, “Ladies and gays, please welcome to the stage the teeny, tiniest queen in the Triad, Brenda the Drag Queen!!!”
The room erupts into raucous cheers loud enough to rival a packed football stadium. “I’M JUST HERE FOR BRENDA!!!” cries an audience member. “You better work bitch!!!” can be heard from the back corner.
The first few familiar notes of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” echo through the room. A shadowy figure takes the stage.
The spotlight burns bright.
There she is.
She stands seven feet tall in heels, dazzling the room in a metallic gold jumpsuit with flared sleeves and ruffles. Her wig is a mesmerizing shade of pink, and her winged eyeliner is drawn on sharp enough to kill a man.
She glides gracefully across the room as she sings a parody of “Dancing Queen” called “Grindr Queen” where she hilariously serenades the crowd about the unfortunate events of hooking up with guys on the LGTBQ+ dating app, Grindr.
Audience members double over in laughter with each verse. She belts out, “You are a Grindr queen, always seen on my iPhone screen. Grindr queen, you’re 40 but say you’re 19, oh yeah.”
“This is my first drag show. There is so much talent and positive energy. You feel like every performer is singing directly to you. There is truly nothing else like it,” says Charlotte Antry, an audience member who can’t contain her excitement.
Brenda effortlessly collects one-dollar bills from the outstretched arms of adoring fans, making eye contact with each person to make them feel appreciated. This connection is part of what makes her performances so special.
“Whenever someone comes up to me and says a show made them feel seen, made them feel valued, made them feel safe, that’s a win,” says Brenda.
***
Before YouTube tutorials on drag makeup and the mainstreaming of drag, becoming a drag performer meant knowing someone in the scene. For Brenda, that queen was Kitty Litter, a performer who had retired from a long drag career up north and settled down in North Carolina.
The two met in 2016 after Brenda’s move to Greensboro. Brenda’s performance at a karaoke fundraiser proved to her “drag mother” that she had what it took to make it in the business. From the beginning, Brenda knew she wanted to sing live at her shows and take a stand-up comedy approach to her performances to set her apart from others.
“Brenda was just kind of a funny go-to name that I would use when I wanted to generically refer to a middle-aged white woman,” said Brenda. “I feel like everyone knows a Brenda. It’s relatable.” As for her last name? She laughs, “You don’t need a last name unless you’re writing me a check!”
So what is with the name “Brenda the Drag Queen?” She jokes, “Well, I’m just so darn beautiful I know people would mistake me for a pedestrian woman if not.”
Influenced by old-school queens like Lady Bunny and Sherry Vine, Brenda exploded onto the drag scene almost six years ago as a 28-year-old. Ever since she has been able to not only entertain but give back to her community.
“Powerful, strong, funny women who can be irreverent and get a point across, those are the kind of women I have been lucky enough to love and be loved by in my life, so I feel like Brenda is a representation of that,” she says as she reflects back on her journey. “My goal when you are seeing me perform is to drag you out of reality for a little while.”
In addition to performing, Brenda’s work extends beyond the stage. For the past two years, she’s been involved with a local nonprofit focused on supporting those with HIV and AIDS. This role was created for her thanks to her impact as a drag performer.
While there is so much positivity and support surrounding the world of drag, an obstacle for drag performers that is rarely talked about is one that spurs from within their community: dating.
“There are so many people that are attracted to, interested in and ready to get to know you, and then when they find out you do drag they flee,” said Brenda. Sometimes, admirers even approach her after a show, oblivious to the fact that they once blocked her on a dating app when they learned about her drag career.
Brenda is not just a drag queen, she is a role model when it comes to dealing with criticism. “It isn’t all just sunshine and rainbows,” she said with a laugh.
A colorful mural of Brenda is painted on the side of The Bearded Goat bar in Greensboro where she started her drag journey. Last year, devil horns and a pentagram were drawn on the artwork along with messages like “I eat children” and “save the children” by a vandal.
She was sent a direct message on Instagram by the individual who defaced her portrait. He bragged about committing the crime. His messages contained ridicule and death threats.
“It is a real indicator of internal work that folks need to do on why people who are different from them make them so uncomfortable,” said Brenda.
Everyone is watching how Brenda responds to haters because it is mostly done in the public eye on social media platforms. She sees it as a chance to show others how to respond in these situations respectfully and maturely. With a background in higher education, Brenda works to communicate with critics in an attempt to inform and make them think about where their prejudice stems from.
“What I do is valid,” said Brenda. “It brings me joy. It brings others joy, and I am not hurting anybody. If anything, I am making the world a better place with maybe a few more rhinestones.”