Man, I feel like a woman!

That ‘90s megahit by Shania Twain plays repeatedly on my iPod late every Winter Quarter in anticipation of Drag Show.

It illuminates in my memory as a kissing off to conventional expectations of gender roles. I’ll always remember my 2005 student exchange in Australia during high school and the reaction I got when singing Shania’s song during a karaoke session.

Some of my newly made friends sang and danced in support, some pointed and laughed, others were slightly appalled. Among the outraged was a strict, social conservative teacher chaperoning the trip, but even she had to nod her head in enjoyment. When a tall, big guy sings lyrics like “Go totally crazy/forget I’m a lady/men’s shirts, short skirts,” something about it makes you pay attention.

When a drag queen (or king) dances and lip syncs in your presence, taking notice is not an option – it’s just what you do.

2012 Drag Show producer and Weinberg senior Maggie Sledd knows that feeling all too well. Sledd first began discovering drag performances when she got involved with her high school’s Gay-Straight Alliance. Watching films like “The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert” and hearing her mother talk about seeing a drag show fueled a growing fascination … and then came college.

After hearing about Drag Show through her involvement with Rainbow Alliance, Sledd signed up as the show’s assistant producer and decided she needed her own drag king persona. She enjoys the times when she can become Marq, her drag king persona.

“It’s cool being able to go through a transformation like that,” Sledd recalled during our Sunday conversation. “My favorite is getting dressed up and walking around the Evans Scholars house. I introduced myself to a freshman once and said, ‘Hi, I’m Marq,’ and they didn’t realize it was me!”

Drag Show features performances from student groups, renowned professional drag performers and students competing in an amateur competition. Medill junior and Rainbow Alliance co-president Zach Wichter competed last year as Karen Beaverberg.

The show is always a good time for Wichter. “I’ve never seen anyone in drag with a frown on your face,” he said. “Part of the atmosphere of being in drag is to have a good time while being a little transgressive.”

Transgression, but against what?

Outside of a performance space like Drag Show, most folks would react strongly to a man walking around in heels and a skirt. Society tells us to play our role in one way or another.

I could go on forever listing stale statements like “talk like a man” or “act like a lady.” But what does it really mean to ‘be’ like a man or a woman?

That’s for you to decide.

For Wichter, gender categories prove problematic. “They can be kind of damaging. Very few people fit into the categories assigned to us,” he said. “It’s not a perfect fit for anyone I know.”

It’s hard to live up to expectations, especially when they’ve been rigidly defined.

Gender has often been one of those fixed, rigid mainstays in social life. But it’s typically thought of in a binary way – it’s black or white, without a shade of gray. If you strictly observe this binary, you might assume that women who are masculine and dominant are unattractive, deviant or don’t “know their place.”

I wrestled with an odd internal conflict a few years ago when my friends tried talking me into performing at Northwestern’s Drag Show. They figured it would be fun and memorable, help me with (what used to be) my weirdness about dancing in public spaces and even be a bit of a confidence booster.

But all I could think was, “I’m a guy and I should only wear things that normal guys wear.”

The word normal can be so self-defeating. It often makes us punish ourselves for our unique qualities.

I thought, “Who am I to tell myself that I can’t participate in a fun, harmless activity just because some people may stigmatize it or view my participation as making me less of a ‘man?'”

What makes you a “man” or a “woman” isn’t your anatomy. What makes me a man is my internal sense of manhood, and I define those values for myself.

And that’s why when I take the stage on the evening of March 10 as Drag Show’s host, RedVelvet, I’ll feel confident in my own sense of manhood independent of what society might otherwise tell me.

And I’ll gladly do that – with others – while sashaying in makeup and heels.

Derrick Clifton is a Communication senior. He can be reached at [email protected]

All opinions expressed in this column are solely the opinions of the columnist and do not reflect the views of The Daily Northwestern. If you would like to respond to the column, you may comment below, email the columnist or submit a 300-word letter to the editor to [email protected].