Aotearoa Ballroom: The Epitome of Queer, Brown, Excellence.

As we celebrate Pride this week at Massive, it’s only fitting to shine a spotlight on the ones doing the most – the ballroom girls here in Aotearoa.

The Aotearoa ballroom scene is a captivating community that is created by and for QTPOC. Taking inspiration and giving respect to the mana of the American ballroom scene, Aotearoa has created their own platform that has allowed for the flourishing of queer brown excellence.

This week, I have had the honour of speaking with Leah 007 and Astarte Iman who are both doing amazing things within the ballroom scene.

Leah 007, solo agent, body icon and all round bad bitch, is the queen of everything face and body – winning a total of ten grand prizes over her ballroom career.

Astarte Iman, from the House of Iman, voguer and choreographer extraordinaire, has been in the scene for around two years and has already made massive moves, claiming his spot on the stage.

While Tāmaki Makaurau is home to the beginnings of ballroom here in Aotearoa, we are seeing ballroom enter mainstream discourse and expand across the country.

Tāmaki Makaurau saw ballroom emerge through high schools where young trans girls starting recreating the American culture they had only watched through videos.

“They were voguing down on fields in school as early as 2008,” Leah 007 tells me.

“I’ve talked to the girls who were part of that and it was all about survival.”

“It was the first time they saw themselves in mainstream culture,” Leah says.

Since its infancy, we have continued to see bigger and better things from the girls who have put in the work to create their own space and give respect to the black and Latino trans community who created ballroom.

By utilising only internet videos, the girls here in Aotearoa have created something utterly legendary borne from a need to create intentional spaces for QTPOC.

“We’ve really just evolved over the times,” Astarte Iman tells me. “From watching videos, to getting people overseas to teach us, to just create that space with permission from the choreographers overseas.”

“We’d ask them a question, we’d make sure everything was ok, making the house [and] all that stuff before we moved on with creating ballroom.”

“It's very ‘learn, create, come back, teach’,” Astarte says.

This has also been the case for the Wellington ballroom scene, who hosted their first ever locally-led ball on Matariki weekend this year. After putting in the time and hard work of honing their skills and growing their community, the Fictional Ball was a testament to a culture that prioritises queer liberation and joy before anything else.

In Pōneke, this was something beautiful to behold. The atmosphere of a ball is undeniable and there were no exceptions that night. From the second you walked in, you were met with queer beauty and joy.

Hosted by Romé and Karamera 007, this night has surely ignited a flame within the scene here in Pōneke.

This expansion to ballroom across Aotearoa also speaks to the necessity and need for spaces like these.

“Ballroom is a safe space, a safe haven for people who don’t exactly fit in other spaces in schools or families,” Astarte Iman tells me.

“We can do whatever we want without being judged, without being told what to do, told how to dress.”

The vastness of the categories speak to this as is the way that each walker can bring their own unique style and culture to their performance.

Leah 007 walks a range of categories including Sex Siren, Body, Face and Runway. As she puts it, “All the ones where you have the be the hottest.”

For Leah, this is a space for her to be able to live out her ultimate being and fantasy.

“I think there’s so much power in that category [Sex Siren] where trans women’s bodies are being celebrated – being ultimate sex symbols,” Leah explains.

“It’s the one time I get to explore this ultimate being that I know I can be and live any fantasy I want within that space,” continues Leah.

“That’s the only space that I feel I can absolutely do that and thrive.”

This is further extenuated by the uniqueness of Aotearoa ballroom which has infused Pacific and Māori cultures into everything they do.

While the respect and acknowledgement of the original ballroom culture is there, walkers are bringing a different experience to the scene here in Aotearoa.

“We’re giving the Pasifika and Māori experience so even categories and themes are different because we base our themes around our culture,” explains Leah.

This was also spoken to by Sistrah Susu, another ballroom girl, who jumped in to chat briefly from the background of my Zoom call with Leah 007.

“The way we build our culture into every single thing throughout the whole ball is real different,” explains Sistrah Susu.

“It’s the same process of doing things wherever you are but there are certain cultural markers.”

“So of course, it goes down to costume, it goes down to music and it even goes down to beauty standards too.”

As Pacific peoples, we have our own conceptualisations of beauty that often do not align with what western standards have conditioned us to believe. Infusing the essence and beauty of the Pacific ensures that space is made for the diversity and range of queer Pacific beauty.

Sistrah Susu notes that at the Iman Ball within the category of Body, there were three different categories of: slim, thick and big.

“They do that in America,” she says, “but I think here it just looks so different of what you would consider a beautiful thick girl.”

“Every single thing about being a Pasifika person is low-key woven into every aspect that you can get.”

The three main houses in Auckland are the House of Iman, Aitu and Coven-Aucoin - headed by house mothers, Jaycee Tanuvasa, Falencie Filipo and Moe Laga.

The success of ballroom and the role that it serves the community not only in Auckland but across the country, can definitely be accredited to the hard work they have put into this culture and making it stand out as unique to Aotearoa.

“The reason is because brown people have taken this culture and are in New Zealand doing it,” Leah explains.

“It was black trans women in America and obviously our experiences are so different but we identify to those because we are still marginalised and the minorities.”

This is what makes Aotearoa ballroom so special and vital to our Pacific and Māori communities.

“You go in and its beautiful brown bodies everywhere and every type of form,” says Leah.

These spaces are ways to nourish the lives of queer brown people and enable their ability to further flourish in ways that are uniquely their own.

The role that ballroom serves is essential and shouldn’t be overlooked especially in places across the country that actively need more intentional spaces for QTPOC.

“I think it plays a big role because it’s a community where you can 100 per cent be yourself, you see people that you identify with,” Leah tells me.

Astarte Iman spoke similarly to this, noting that ballroom is one of the only spaces that is indefinitely queer friendly and how important this role is for the community.

“I think ballroom can be an incredibly good pathway for brown queer excellence,” says Astarte.

“That just comes from the amount of the work everyone in the past has done and the house mothers have done and have really been able to nurture this culture and this scene to be able to make it what it is today,” Astarte further notes.

For many QTPOC in Aotearoa, particularly those raised within religion, families were not accepting of their children’s identity.

Ballroom has stepped in to provide further nourishment of queer livelihoods by providing chosen families for those within the community who may not have that within their blood families.

The houses within ballroom function for many as chosen families, each with a house mother that supports everybody within the house.

“A ballroom is a chosen family situation for people who are different and in-between like me – brown queer people,” Astarte Iman tells me.

“There’s a lot of Pasifika queer people that blood families have rejected them, they’re not keen on who they are,” Leah also notes.

“So obviously, those types of people try make their own whānau which becomes chosen family. I know that that role is really big for those types of people.”

Leah herself did not have this experience as her blood family have always been loving and accepting. Her mum supported her to start hormone therapy and never once said no or questioned Leah’s decisions surrounding her body.

“I always say that because honestly I love my family. I love my mum down,” Leah tells me.

“That’s why I always talk about my experience because this is what I want the standard to be and it’s not that hard.”

“It really isn’t hard to love and accept your kid.”

While Leah acknowledges her different experience, she knows this isn’t the case for others in ballroom. Therefore for many, ballroom is where QTPOC can go to and feel their identities validated and supported with others like them.

These spaces and these communities are therefore essential and vital to the livelihoods of so many. As we are watching ballroom rise further to the mainstream in Aotearoa, it is hopeful that more QTPOC will find their way to the scene and experience the magic that is ballroom.

When asked what he sees for the future of ballroom, Astarte Iman notes that the House of Iman’s focus is on community and supporting the younger generation coming into the scene.

“We’re really focusing on the younger generation and the younger queens coming up and making sure they’re being looked after in their schools.”

“We are currently putting on small events for queer kids to be involved in and the House of Iman will guest perform at these events,” Astarte tells me.

This has been inclusive of hosting mini balls and providing spaces for kids to explore themselves and see people who they can positively look up to.

“I think we’re just trying to let the younger girls know that it’s okay to start whenever you want and it’s okay to start now,” Astarte says.

It is an exciting time for the ballroom scene and we can only except bigger and better things to come from the girls across the country.

The community is only growing and if the Fictional Ball gives any indication towards the expansion of ballroom nationally, it is evident there is much to come.