Renae Green-Bean had begun taking precautions in public even before the Tennessee legislature passed a law in March limiting the venues where “adult cabaret” can be performed.

Ms. Green-Bean had observed the increase in legislation restricting LGBTQ rights and was concerned that restaurant nights out with his wife, children or grandchildren, or his preference for masculine clothing and close-cropped hair, would invite harassment . So she couldn’t help but worry that the new law would make her feel less confident in pursuing her creative outlet: donning a flashy jacket several nights a week and transforming into El Rey, a drag king.

If a federal judge allows the law to take effect in the coming weeks, it will ban what it defines as adult cabaret performances, including those by “male or female impersonators,” on public property or anywhere children might see them. It won’t stop the shows that Ms. Green-Bean, 46, puts on at an adults-only club in Clarksville and other clubs near the Kentucky border.

Still, she and other artists said it now feels much riskier to be seen as a crossdresser in any public place. The law and others like it come as far-right activists have increasingly targeted drag shows across the country, with members of the Proud Boys and other protesters, sometimes heavily armed, appearing at shows and in public houses. library story hours when drag performers read children’s books.

“There is a fear factor,” Ms Green-Bean said of the law, “because they have given people the right to be hateful.”

The judge temporarily blocked the law from going into effect in late March after a Memphis theater troupe challenged its constitutionality, but its passage has sown fear and confusion among drag performers that is unlikely to dissipate even if it is resolved. nullifies the law.

Ahead of a ruling that could come this week, the law is also upending the plans of entertainment venues, entertainers and event organizers gearing up for Pride Month celebrations, many of which take place on the streets. in the city and in other public places. Such events, along with all-ages brunches at various locations around the state, appear to be the main targets of the law.

Groups planning Pride celebrations are restrict attendance to adults o cancel drag performances, not only in Tennessee, but also in Florida, Montana, Texas and Arkansas, which passed similar laws this year that prohibit anyone under the age of 18 from participating in live performances that meet the definition of inappropriate the legislators.

The laws have been fueled by conservative backlash as Pride parades and festivals have proliferated across the country and drag has found a firm foothold in the mainstream media. The popular reality TV show “RuPaul’s Drag Race” has catapulted a number of entertainers into roles in movies, TV shows and musicals, and giant retailers like Target and Walmart carry LGBTQ products, the focus of a new protest ahead of Pride Month.

Despite that growing visibility in mainstream culture, many supporters of anti-drag bills, which have been debated in more than a dozen states this year, view drag performances as too mature for the young or in direct conflict with deep religious values ​​and argue that they need to draw the line.

Drag’s most staunch critics have characterized it as invariably sexual. But as audiences have broadened, many drag performers say they’ve adapted their performances, making them appropriate for drag luncheons and public events like Pride parades when children can be present.

“Drag performers were already regulating themselves,” said Vanessa Rodley, president of Mid-South Pride. “They didn’t need the government to come and regulate them.”

Even with the law on hold, Rodley has spent weeks reviewing the costumes and music of the dozens of drag performers set to perform at the Mid-South Pride festival in Memphis next month. To avoid any photos or video clips that could be taken out of context and used to imply suspicious behavior in front of children, she also ruled out onstage costume changes or accepting tips by hand, a common practice in drag shows.

The Tennessee law grew out of a dispute last year in Jackson, a city between Memphis and Nashville, where two state legislators and some members of a local church sued to stop a drag show from taking place in a public park. during the city’s annual Pride festival. . An agreement restricted the event to people over the age of 18.

Soon after, one of the legislators, state representative Chris Todd, sponsored the bill criminalizing adult cabaret in certain settings. A first offense under the law would be a misdemeanor, punishable by up to nearly a year in jail and a $2,500 fine. Subsequent offenses would be felonies, punishable by up to six years in prison and a fine of up to $3,000.

Testifying in support of the Tennessee measure this year, Adam Dooley, pastor of Englewood Baptist Church in Jackson, said that while adults “have every right” to see a drag performance, “they have no right to insist that children be present, and frankly I question whether there is any sinister motive behind the demand that children be present.”

Opponents of the law and others say they are echoing a decades-old anti-LGBTQ smear by suggesting that artists prey on children.

Benjamin Slinkard, who plays Kennedy Ann Scott, the resident drag queen at the Lipstick Lounge in Nashville, said he saw a motivation for the law that had nothing to do with child protection: “A group of humans who are completely fine Being themselves and sharing that with the world, I think, terrifies people who have only seen the world from one point of view.”

The crackdown on drag performances belies the deep history of drag art in the South, which began long before it became a mainstay in the region’s largest entertainment districts.

Sarah Calise, Founder and Director of Nashville Queer Historya project dedicated to the history of the city’s LGBTQ community, said drag began largely in the region with white men performing as women in 19th-century blackface troubadour shows before spreading through vaudeville and then to LGBTQ clubs.

Later, performers were required to carry identification cards and police and arsonists attacked their clubs in Tennessee, even as the state became the birthplace of Miss Gay America, now a 51-year-old drag pageant.

Now, many drag performers have resumes. packed with headlines or appearances with Nashville’s music stars, while also lip-syncing and dancing at variety shows or weekend luncheons packed with groups visiting on bachelorette weekends.

In interviews, several performers reflected on how drag has been an antidote to the loneliness and pain they experienced in childhood, as LGBTQ people were ostracized by their deeply religious or conservative communities. Having seen their own families struggle to understand their sexual or gender identity or their passion for drag, many performers accept that some parents may not feel comfortable with their children watching a drag show, even one with familiar routines.

Miami Miller, a drag performer who cares for a young nephew who wins for performing at Atomic Rose, a club in Memphis, said the boy “knows what I do and is very proud of me.” Attending his first Mother’s Day drag show this month, Mx. Miller said, the boy marveled at the artists transformations and spent the rest of the day talking about it.

“It’s like any other parent when you’re around a child,” Mx. Miller said. “I try to keep everything appropriate around the kids.”

As lawmakers scramble to define what types of live entertainment are unsuitable for minors, the rights of parents who see benefits, including learning about self-expression and acceptance, for their children to experience drag are being overlooked. .

“For a little kid like me, who knew from a very young age that I was different, it would have been powerful to see myself in someone else and know there was a future for me,” said Slade Kyle, 43, who works as Bella DuBalle, director showrunner and host of Atomic Rose who is now one of the most outspoken drag performers in the state.

At a recent all-ages brunch at Atomic Rose, Ms. DuBalle brought 9-year-old fan Elizabeth onstage for a dance after chatting with her about the challenges of elementary school.

His father, Seth Bowlin, 33, recalled initially rejecting his own father for being gay and transvestite in Memphis, before embracing him. Taking her daughter to drag shows was an opportunity to model acceptance of her, Bowlin said, and let her know that “we’ll have our back” no matter who she is when she grows up.

In Clarksville, Ms. Green-Bean and her wife, Lizette, say they will continue performing a few nights a week for now, dancing together or holding the spotlight alone with the support of their children in what feels like an escape. of the world. Expectations.

“Sometimes you get lost in what society and everyone else wants you to be as a mother,” said Lizette, 43. “Drag is a place where you don’t have to be that. You don’t have to be what your typical daily etiquette is.”