Drag has always been visible. It is built on exaggeration, expression, and presence, which by nature, makes it a thing to be seen. In recent years, this visibility has expanded beyond performance venues and into national headlines, political debates, and public discourse, as drag culture has reached broader audiences through live shows, television, and social media platforms.
Behind that visibility are people who feel its effects most directly. The performers who step onto the stage knowing their work may be scrutinized and misunderstood. The audiences who rely on these spaces for affirmation and connection. The LGBTQ+ Hoosiers who now have to weigh being visible against being vulnerable every time they enter a venue.
Public conversation often treats drag as a spectacle. It is seen as something to argue over or sensationalize. However, studies from national LGBTQ+ advocacy groups and mental health organizations have. consistently found that community centered spaces play a crucial role in providing social support for queer individuals, especially in regions where affirming environments are limited. For many, drag shows are more than entertainment. They are gathering places where identity, belonging, and safety intersect.
Indiana is home to tens of thousands of LGBTQ+ residents. While cities like Bloomington are often recognized as more LGBTQ+ friendly than many other parts of the state, they still exist inside of Indiana’s broader political and cultural climate. The larger context shapes how queer spaces are experienced, even in communities that outwardly feel welcoming and accepting.
For LGBTQ+ students and residents, drag shows are not distant cultural debates. They are familiar spaces tied to friendships, self-expression, and personal growth. They exist alongside classrooms, dorm buildings, and workplaces, woven into everyday life in ways that make public scrutiny feel personal.
As drag has moved more into the spotlight, the act of simply showing up has changed. Increased attention as brought larger audiences, but it has also introduces new layers of awareness. What was once a carefree night out now often includes more consideration of safety and the broader environment surrounding these events.
Still, drag performances continue. Audiences continue to gather. Within these new spaces, many LGBTQ+ Hoosiers continue to find community, not because the discourse is ignored or forgotten about, but because connection remains essential, even as uncertainty lingers just beyond the stage lights.
AJ Thoma answers some questions about drag, and about their own experiences living in Indiana
For drag performers, increased visibility is not a uniform experience. It introduces uncertainty, especially for those performing In states where LGBTQ+ visibility is frequently politicized. As drag becomes more publicly discussed, performers are often aware there their work may be interpreted far beyond its original context and meaning.
That tension is familiar to individuals like AJ Thoma, a drag performer and actor at Indiana University. For Thoma, drag is not only a performance. It is a way to connect with others and build community. At the same time, greater public attention has reshaped how drag spaces are navigated, both on and off the stage.
Thoma has described Dra spaces as environments grounded in mutual understanding, where self-expression does not require explanation. These spaces often serve as entry points for LGBTQ+ students and individuals seeking connection, affirmation, or a sense of belonging on campus. As visibility has increased, the emotional and logistical dynamics of events such as these have shifted.
Rather than existing quietly within nightlife or student spaces, drag events now operate under much broader public awareness. Performers and audience members alike now find themselves much more conscious and aware of who is present, how coverage of these events is framed, and how moments inside of these spaces could be interpreted outside of them.
Despite these changes, Thoma and others continue to emphasize the importance of maintaining drag spaces, along with other queer spaces. Instead of retreating in response to the scrutiny, many performers adapt. They find ways to preserve creativity, joy, and connection, while still acknowledging the more complex environment. The act of showing up, while different than it once was, remains more meaningful than ever.
Cameron Haughawout talks about his experiences growing up queer in Plainfield, Indiana.
Beyond performance spaces, the impacts of increased political attention are felt on a more personal level by many. Cameron Haughawout, a queer individual who attends Indiana University, described living dealing with modern day politics to feel like a constant contradiction. One where progress feels visible, yet fragile, and where public conversations about LGBTQ+ identity can feel increasingly hostile.
Haughawout explained that the recent rise in anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric and evolving political agendas has affected how many queer people experience everyday life. Even if policies do not directly target individuals, the language around these bills can be harmful. It shapes how queer identities are discussed publicly, and contributes to a sense of uncertainty around how safe it is to be openly LGBTQ.
At the same time, Haughawout emphasized the importance of holding onto hope. A message that was also echoed by Thoma in their interview. Rather than viewing hope as simply having passive optimism, Haughawout described it as something grounded in resilience and community. Something that is built through shared experience, mutual care, and the knowledge that queer communities have faced and survived times of backlash before.
As drag continues to draw greater public attention, the spaces built around it remain deeply person and important for those who rely on them. In Bloomington and beyond, drag shows and queer centered spaces continue to offer connection, expression, and community, even as the broader environment surrounding those spaces becomes more complex. For many LGBTQ+ Hoosiers, the act of showing up remains meaningful, not because the moment is easy, but because community still matters.