Finding a venue to put on a drag show in a state pushing drag bans is challenging, to say the least. In Bartlesville, Oklahoma, the We’re Here production team can’t even find an indoor spot like a café or bar that will allow its cast—all successful drag queens who hail from the RuPaul’s Drag Race franchise—a to have a conversation out of drag, let alone a space to perform in costume. In Tulsa, a few more options present themselves, none more surprising than a place of worship.
What follows is profoundly cathartic and moving—whether you are religious or not—and once again underscores why We’re Here is a necessary and rewarding watch during these divisive times. Acceptance can and should be found in an institution like that church.
(Warning: Spoilers ahead for We’re Here.)
“When I stepped in that church, I just felt that welcome feeling over me. I can’t even. You saw it. It’s so affirming to hear [the priest] say, ‘You’re welcome, and your drag is a ministry,’” Latrice Royale tells The Daily Beast’s Obsessed.
After an ultimately successful venture to Murfreesboro, Tennessee—a city that previously canceled Pride—Latrice Royale takes the hosting crown from Jaida Essence Hall, joining Sasha Velour and Priyanka for the second half of the season. In We’re Here, the queens travel to locations across the United States, showcasing the artistry and power of drag in small towns experiencing a hostile political climate toward the LGBTQ+ community. The HBO docuseries doesn’t shy away from showing the obstacles facing the queer community in states like Oklahoma and Tennessee, at the same time shining a light on how love, diversity, and acceptance can thrive.
The penultimate episode of We’re Here’s fourth season continues to portray the spectrum between hope and horror in states pushing anti-LGBTQ+ laws. As the quest for a venue stalls, Sasha, Priyanka, and Latrice become more acquainted with their new drag daughters, learning about their experiences and translating them into this dazzling art form. Healing comes in many forms, and self-discovery and personal reflection ripple throughout—even for the queens.
In fact, one reason We’re Here is so successful at stepping into rural communities across America is because the drag queen hosts are closely attuned to some of the same challenges. While they have gone on to become RuPaul’s Drag Race winners and fan favorites, this doesn’t erase their past pain. Regular RuPaul’s Drag Race viewers will be familiar with discussions in the workroom centered on damaging experiences with the church. In this week’s episode, Priyanka says that “the word religion is very triggering to a lot of people.”
Faith and Christianity are used to support loud opposition to drag queens and the LGBTQ+ community in the conservative Midwestern state of Oklahoma. We’re Here intersperses in-person conversations with those pushing drag ban legislation with news and TikTok montages. It’s a surprise, then, when the Parish Church of St. Jerome in Tulsa opens its doors with zero caveats. The category is Sunday Best, and Latrice, Sasha, and Priyanka are welcomed with open arms in drag, sharply contrasting the mood ahead of the meet-and-greet in Bartlesville.
When The Daily Beast’s Obsessed recently caught up with Latrice, Sasha, and Priyanka, it was clear that hearing priest Father Joshua’s sermon in the inclusive Parish Church of St. Jerome was as emotional as it appears on television.
Before attending this service, Latrice recalls struggling with filming the show in the church because of her own past experiences. “Leading up to going into the church, I was dealing with my own internal issues, and I didn’t alert production, I didn’t tell anyone anything that I was going through, but I was going through it,” Latrice says. “Those voices that said, ‘You’re being blasphemous, and you’re making a mockery of God—and all of these things—by going in this church in drag.’ All of that was playing in my head.”
Given that Latrice heard pastors repeatedly say that gay people were an abomination and doomed to Hell when she was growing up, it is unsurprising that rhetoric tied to being sinful would creep in—no matter how defiant or proud she now is.
Shooting down the shame-based thoughts before entering the church was imperative. “I remember the power that I have in my art and my drag, and I know where that comes from,” Latrice says.
Swirling feelings bubble to the surface as Latrice listens to Father Joshua say all are welcome. You can practically hear the deep exhalation from Latrice’s soul upon hearing a sermon so full of love without an asterisk predicated on sexuality.
During the “Sign of Peace” exchange, Latrice says, “I love this part.” It is almost off-camera, but it resonates because you get a sense of how much joy Latrice gets from revisiting a place that made her feel less than in her past. Getting to experience this setting while serving cobalt blue and feathered realness emphasizes not only the overwhelming nature of this moment but also what a fantastic setting this house of worship is.
Father Joshua’s words dispelled those previous negative connotations and reaffirmed what Latrice loves about her work. “My drag is my ministry. This is how I encourage and empower people to be themselves, live authentically, happy, and love the shape and body, the skin they’re in,” says Latrice. “Just to hear that was everything.”
Latrice is taken aback and brought to tears during this sermon, but she isn’t alone in being moved by how inclusive this space is. “The way he was willing to say trans and non-binary, gay and straight as part of ‘All who are loved under the church’—that was mind-blowing,” says Sasha. “It shouldn’t be so surprising because that’s tolerance; that is love. That’s all that they stand for. But it really caught me off guard.”
Given how the anti-drag movement has used messages of God on their placards at protests, it can be challenging to approach this topic with an open heart and mind. “For some reason, going to church that morning. I was kind of excited. Because I was always so like, ‘Yeah, God hates the gays.’ You believe that, whatever. ‘Then fuck religion, fuck church,’” says Priyanka. However, Priyanka understands that this combative line of thinking is part of the overall issue: “But then I was like, ‘I want to not set up so much a divide.’ Have queer people believe in God if they want to. If you want to believe in God, then believe in God. I don’t care. Don’t we have an open community to not judge? If you want to go pray, then go pray.”
Going to St. Jerome and hearing Father Joshua reinforced this notion, even if Priyanka initially felt like they were in an alternative universe and not the Midwest. “This guy’s an actor, for sure. It can’t be real,” Priyanka says. “But when I realized how real it was, I was like, ‘This is incredible. This is what people have to see.’”
Religion used to support close-minded beliefs only divides further. “I don’t want people to feel bad about religion. I don’t want that. I think that’s awful, but there are bad people in every community that ruin it for everyone,” Priyanka says. “I’m excited for people to see the religious aspect of things, to know that we support you if you want to have a religion. The same way that you support us if we want to do whatever we want to do.”
Considering the episode ends with the queens stepping out into a combative atmosphere at the meet-and-greet, it is reaffirming to witness this level of love and acceptance from a minister like Father Joshua. “That gave me more hope. People can find their faith and feel like they’re going to be OK,” Latrice says. “But they have just as much right to praise and worship God as the next person; it doesn’t matter if you’re a drag queen or gay. It doesn’t matter.”
Amen to that!
