Baby’s First Ball: Black Queer Freedom in West Coast Ballroom Culture

I had never walked a ball before. I had never even thought I could walk a ball before. Being a cisgender woman, I didn’t even think it was my place to walk a ball, especially as a “007,” unaffiliated with a house. When the face category started, however, motivation came over me. The encouragement I had received from the people I met throughout the night gave me the courage to take a leap of faith and put myself on display. Of course, I figured I would be “chopped” in the first round. I was a stranger, an outsider, a beginner. But when I reached the end of the runway, heard commentator Pack-Rat's infamous “Give her a round, a round of applause,” and saw 10s on every judge’s fingers, I was filled with both anxiety and thrill.

The ballroom scene was originally created by Black trans and queer people to be a safe space for Black trans and queer people. It is a space for competition, but a space where community takes an entirely new meaning. Pioneers like Crystal LaBeija, Larry Ebony and so many others were forced to create space for queer Black and Brown people to be themselves in a world that wanted to erase their existence. After starting in New York, legendary houses began spreading throughout the country and the world, leading to a very robust scene on the west coast.

When my friend sent me a flyer for an event called “Safe Haus” in Los Angeles, there was no way I was going to say no. The event was put on by members of the West Coast House of Ebony and after watching HBO’s Legendary , I knew that I wanted to see their talents in real life. We went as spectators but did not know the exact level of freedom that we would feel the minute we walked through the doors. “Safe Haus” is not a mainstream ball or a “kiki” ball, but simply a space where members of the ballroom scene are able to celebrate one another.

Throughout the night, my friends and I met so many people who had showed up as their most authentic versions of themselves. People like Legendary Mother Isla Ebony, Rome Telfar Ebony, Tiny Ebony and Asé Ebony received us and every guest as though they were family. There was nothing but queer joy lighting up the room. There was a level of support unlike anything I had ever seen before. Everyone we met had nothing but compliments to give out. As the best-dressed category came up, audience members and even some of the judges encouraged my friends to walk. In fact, one of my friends ended up winning first place in the category!

They could tell that I was a beginner, but I was received with open arms. All I heard after the ball was encouragement. “Keep it up” and “you need to keep going.” Even the Founding Mother of the California House of Ebony, Shay, told me she sees it in me.

The safe space created in the 1980s and 1990s is still alive and thriving today. Black queer folks are able to come to this space to lean into their gender expression, to wear what it is they wish, to be who they are. Ballroom culture’s existence is evidence of queer resilience, of queer joy and of queer freedom.