A bill passed in Tennessee, making “adult cabaret performances” in public or in the presence of children illegal as of April 1, and bans them from occurring within 1,000 feet of schools, public parks or places of worship. Those found violating the anti-drag law face misdemeanor charges in the first instance, punishable by a fine up to $2,500 and/or up to a year in jail. Those found for subsequent violations face a felony charge, punishable by up to six years in jail. At least nine GOP-led state legislatures are pushing similar anti-drag bills.

I have to confess I have attended many drag queen performances. For five years, my wife and I taught in Samoa and American Samoa, and every year we attended Samoas’ third-gender beauty pageants. Samoan culture is largely accepting of their Fa’afafines or third-gender citizens. Fa’afafines means the way (fashion) of a woman. There are also Fa’afatamas — individuals who are born female but identify as males. Fa’afafines and Fa’afatamas are not all transgender. Some Fa’afafines live their lives out as women, whereas others may choose to live as men with feminine attributes. Being Fa’afafine does not necessarily mean a person is gay; they consider themselves instead to be a third-gender. About 1% to 5% of Samoa’s 222,000 people identify as Fa’afafine or Fa’afatama; it is a social and communal gender-fluid based status within the Samoan cultural context.

Every year in American Samoa, a Fa’afafine beauty pageant took place. The same thing occurred in independent Samoa just over 130 miles away in their major hotels. I lived in both places; neither event was ever to be missed. These pageants were regarded as major social events, advertised months ahead. Tickets were difficult to come by.

Friends, family members, cousins, offspring, chieftains, priests, ministers, and politicians attended. Each attendee came to support an individual or individuals. In my case, my school staff members supported our school librarian. She would have been at home as a linebacker, but she needed to be in the show. One year my 68-year-old, white-haired grandmother visited. Due to her age we were given a front-row seat at the pageant. And better yet my grandmother was chosen as an audience judge — one of three.

The contestants had to wear a bathing suit, traditional Samoan clothing and Western clothing, and they had to perform a traditional Samoan dance. My grandmother sat mouth agape, her fingers on both hands splayed over her wide-open eyes. “Oh, My Goodness, my Goodness, my Goodness!” she declared as she watched everything from between those fingers.

The highlight was when one of the Fa’afafine’s traditional skirts dropped to the stage floor. That revealed the contestant in super tight pantyhose. It also revealed that the contestant was an exceedingly healthy male genetically. The place echoed with screams of delight, laughter, joy. People pounded the tables; some smashed their bottles on the floor. My grandmother kept on saying, “I’m gonna pee. I’m gonna pee.” She was not the only one.

We made lots of lifetime friends that night. Our school librarian did not win, nor did the contestant who lost the skirt, although my grandmother did cast her ballot for them. I have to say in the end those pageants were wonderful and healthy for all who attended. They are certainly nothing to be feared. Perhaps if the legislators seeking to criminalize such shows went to one first, they’d learn to respect the liberty of the individuals involved — and maybe loosen up a little.

Paul Karrer (pkarrer123@yahoo.com) is a retired teacher. This piece was originally published in the San Francisco Chronicle.