Threats of violence and thuggish backlash must be condemned but criticism of the Drag Queen Storytime is not unreasonable, argues Claire Lehmann

Because children are vulnerable to exploitation and are not mature enough to make independent choices, we erect clear boundaries between childhood and adulthood.

It was reported on Thursday that Monash City Council has cancelled its “Drag Storytime” event for children scheduled this month at Oakleigh library.

The proposed event triggered substantial backlash, which included threats of violence and, after consultation with Victorian police, the council decided not to proceed.

Monash City Council was not the first Australian council to adopt the American trend of Drag Queen Storytime, and will unlikely be the last. Similar events have been held in Sydney and Brisbane, and other events are scheduled for Perth later this year.

First held in San Francisco in 2015, the original Drag Queen Story Hour website claims it “captures the … gender fluidity of childhood” and “gives kids glamorous, positive, and unabashedly queer role models”. Testimonials from librarians affirm that “Drag Queen Story Hour is really about connecting with kids, helping them to understand identity and intersectionality”.

The backlash to the event in Monash has been undoubtedly thuggish. Councillors have reported death threats, and some have been subjected to accusations of grooming and pedophilia.

To be clear, abuse and intimidation of public servants is never acceptable. Councillors should not be receiving death threats, and accusations of sex offending should not be made without the highest standards of evidence. Nevertheless, while the thuggish backlash must be condemned, criticism of the Drag Time Storytime is not unreasonable.

In a liberal society, we accept that adults are free to do as they please – as long as no one else is harmed. When it comes to alternative lifestyles, Australians are a tolerant bunch, agreeing to live and let live. What consenting adults do behind closed doors is nobody’s business but their own.

But in civilised societies, such liberalism does not extend to children. Because children are vulnerable to exploitation and are not mature enough to make independent choices, we erect clear boundaries between childhood and adulthood.

This boundary exists in the form of Age of Consent laws, and in the ethical precepts of “informed consent”. The freedom enjoyed by adults is generally not extended to children, which most of us agree is for their own benefit.

In response to accusations of grooming (defined as preparing a child for sexual behaviour) supporters of Drag Queen Storytime argue the events are not sexual, and the emphasis is on diversity and inclusion, dressing up, and having fun.

Sam T, the drag queen booked by Monash City Council for the Oakleigh library event, said: “I understand the difference between a club performance, a hen’s party or in this case reading to children on a day that is supposed to be celebrating love and acceptance. Nothing about my reading a book to children is subversive or overtly sexual.”

But not all drag queens agree. Sky Gilbert, a Canadian playwright and drag queen for more than 40 years, has said the popular narrative that drag is not a sexual performance is “simply ahistorical”.

Writing in Quillette, Gilbert reflects: “Drag is quintessentially gay and essentially sexual … It always has been a way for gay men to exist in a homophobic society while proudly claiming their effeminacy, their love for other men, and, frankly, their proud status as ‘sex objects’.” Gilbert asserts drag is not for kids, and kids should not be doing drag. “To create bubbly television fare marketed to Canadian children as wholesome (and even edifying) entertainment is at best ignorant, and at worst damaging,” he writes.

In defence of Drag Queen Storytime, Sarah Austin and Jonathan Graffam, from The University of Melbourne, argue in The Conversation: “Calls to ‘protect the children from drag performers and trans people assume children are, in fact, in need of safeguarding. Such messaging is rooted in a tendency for Western societies to reduce childhood to an idyllic innocence, which positions children as ‘in need of protection’.” Instead of protecting children, Austin and Graffam argue, we should be affording them the agency to choose.

This is all very well, but as a mother of two children, I am yet to hear a toddler ask to be read to by a drag queen. And I have yet to meet a preschooler who wants to learn about “intersectionality”. There is no organic demand for such events – they are entirely driven by adults, for adult reasons. It is concerning then that the same people advocating for such events also recommend that the line between adulthood and childhood be blurred.

Putting arguments about childhood sexualisation to one side, it can also be argued it is inappropriate to host political events in our publicly funded spaces. Would those who support Drag Queen Storytime also support an Anti-Vax Story Hour or a Scientology Story Hour for toddlers and babies? I doubt it.

The backlash to Drag Queen Storytime is unpleasant. But it is not necessarily driven by homophobia, transphobia, or any other phobia, or ism. Only the most puritanical busybodies have a problem with that which occurs between consenting adults. Rather than an example of hostility towards LGBT individuals, the backlash appears to be driven by the recognition that adulthood and childhood should remain separate, and that the boundary between the two exists for the benefit of the child.

It is also reasonable to expect that our public spaces remain free of divisive and inflammatory events imported from the American culture wars. Instead of blaming the backlash on extremists and homophobes, Monash City Council might want to reflect on why it decided to politicise a public library in the first place.

Claire Lehmann is founding editor of online magazine Quillette.