MCI Cultural Journal #2: Irish Drag(on)

Last Thursday after taking in a performance of Molly Sweeney, I hooked up with some kids from UC-Berkley. They saw Molly as a part of their semester abroad studying theater and arts. I chatted with them about their interpretations of the show, a continuation Dan and I were having about the doctor and husband as colonizers of Molly/Ireland (more on that in a separate entry.) So Dan and I followed them to a gay bar, where the doorman immediately marked us both as heteros slumming with the queens.

With raised eyebrow and a bawdy Irish brogue, “You know there’s a performance here tonight, right, lads?” I answered in the affirmative suspecting we were about to see a burlesque show, (even saying “Yeah, it’s a burlesque show”), but truly unsure of the bar’s clientele or sexual preference. In fact, when I heard the kids talking about a Panti, I just assumed I was in for some Moulin rouge hi-jinks and maybe a few corsets and garter belts. Who knew Panti was the main star attraction in a drag show, and someone the Cal kids studied with during their trip?

That said, Dan ducked out early noting, “Yeah, this isn’t really my scene.” (There went my cab fare split). I wasn’t uncomfortable in the least, and I figured out rather quickly this was a gay bar, and the queens were in high demand. I joined some of the UCB students and got some great video of these dames performing, and it was a riot. They put on one helluva a show, and it was a fascinating cultural experience. I’ll write more on this in another entry.

But what was just as interesting, was the journey home and the conversation with Alix, our French roommate. I caught her as she arrived home after meeting up with Dan and Connor for drinks at another pub. When I relayed that we had gone to a gay bar, she had reacted with such disdain and disgust that I was truly taken aback. Really? Really, Alix, really? You’re French! Your monarchy practically invented cross-dressing! Holding back the urge to chastise her for her dark ages view of sexuality, I suggested I wanted to apologize to Dan if he were uncomfortable, whereupon Alix stated sternly “Maybe he should be” with a very cross expression. Wanting to make sure I caught her neo-conservative bent correctly, I asked her to repeat herself under the guise of not hearing her fully. When she stated it the second time, I simply responded with “Huh, why?” Was I pressing her? Yes. Was I seeking a verbal confrontation? Probably. Did I want to expose her archaic views and produce consternation? Absolutely.

It’s an interesting paradox I’ve encountered so far. Alix as a French woman, and many Irish I meet here, carry strong opinions but a very non-confrontational stance. It’s like snipers, drawing a bead on an intended target in which to stoke a difference in opinions, but shirk the responsibility or negativity despite being clearly marked as both. It’s like criticizing someone through someone else to shield oneself from the ensuing ill tidings or conversation.

It’s one thing to avoid conflict and confrontation; it’s another to be too cowardly to stand behind your words no matter how controversial they may appear to be.