The House That Ballroom Built

Nikk Théberge-Dritsas: So T [Tamar], since the first World AIDS Day Ball in 2021, where we first dreamed of Function, we’ve worked hard to honour the ballroom art and give it room to blossom without getting in its way. From then to now, how do you feel about the current state of the Canadian ballroom scene?

Tamar Carter: Seeing different pockets of the community grow in Vancouver, Calgary, Edmonton and Ottawa—all of these new scenes across Canada point to Function as the benchmark. It’s flattering because it aligns with our mission. Function is a response to the needs of the community.

TC: They want to walk* a Function Ball, and they bring it the same way you or I would tell our kids, as house** parents, to bring it. I’m optimistic for the first time in many years about the landscape of ballroom.

NT-D: It’s so funny because you literally just stole my line. You and I are from two different generations, and even for me, when I came to ballroom, it still felt very secluded and underground. It needed a catalyst to grow and encourage people from across the country to engage with us and take it seriously.

TC: Absolutely! Obviously with ballroom becoming a bigger part of the mainstream with Beyoncé’s Renaissance and TV shows like Pose, there’s been criticism around the “bastardization of ballroom.” On a personal level, you’ve gotten backlash for being a leading figure in the community while being a white man. How do you feel about this?

NT-D: I’ve always been involved in the scene because I love it so much and believe in it. That I have to prove I’m worthy of being in this space is essential—and that’s true for anybody who’s not Black, trans or queer.

TC: Do you think slowly losing the underground portion of the culture makes us sellouts, or do you think it’s beneficial since it gives us more opportunities?

NT-D: I think that you and I do a great job making sure that when accepting funds there are no strings attached. Or that when strings are attached, they don’t get in the way of the actual culture. I have my qualms when powerful mainstream creatives want to use the culture but don’t showcase the people—especially when they have all the resources in the world.

TC: Exactly. And even within the ballroom world, it can be disappointing to see people who are pointing fingers at us as “part of the problem” show up at our functions. But because it is culture first, we understand how important it is for them to be at balls like ours, at home. Even if it leaves a bitter taste.

NT-D: At the end of the day, we make sure ballroom is for everyone. Speaking of, I’m curious to know your perspective on these smaller Canadian markets growing their ballroom communities without the proper foundations. How do you feel about starting a ballroom scene without the presence of the Black queer community who holds the foundation of the culture?

TC: It’s certainly interesting to experience. But having been there, you see and understand how necessary ballroom is to every ecosystem, to every queer scene, so that people like myself can find it. I’m grateful for those people across Canada who are not visible minorities that have opened up ballroom scenes, because it gives those Black and brown queer kids a place to belong and thrive. I would not be where I am today had it not been for ballroom. It is not just Black people in ballroom who have fed into me. Our work is Black-led but inclusionary. Of course, it’s here to uplift and highlight Black voices, but you can only do that if they’re there. If there’s not enough Black people there, there still must be a scene that welcomes those Black voices.

NT-D: So true, sister. I know we’ve talked a lot about the expansion of ballroom, but now I’m curious to hear about what anchors you in the community. After a decade in the business, why haven’t you run for the woods yet?

TC: I’ve tried to run many times, if I’m being candid, but I’ve never felt more sure of anything than ballroom. It feels like I have a Ph.D. in what I do. I have the right to be here. Every time things get difficult, I go back to what I’ve contributed to the space. My accolades are not for me to feel hot—it’s for me to give back. This is a labour of love. I love the community and the people who make it. Even those who hate me I love. How about you, Nikk? What keeps you going?

NT-D: Being in ballroom—at the capacity that I am—is the most challenging thing I do. It has also brought me so much in terms of finding purpose, finding myself and giving me a creative outlet to explore my identity that my background otherwise would’ve never allowed me to. I think it’s important to empower the folks who are in ballroom because it is such a beautiful space. I often feel like the next generation has everything they need to be successful. They have it. They just have never been given that chance. I feel a certain duty to provide that chance. I’m excited for them and to see the fruits of their labour!

TC: Oh, they better bring it to the fourth annual World AIDS Day Ball this December.

NT-D: And you know they will!

Editor’s notes:

* Ball participants “walk” (dance, perform, lip-sync and compete) in different categories, both epitomizing and satirizing gender constructs.

** Houses, in ball culture, are alternative families that provide shelter and safety to 2SLGBTQIA+ members. They are often named after fashion brands and led by “mothers” and “fathers,” who are experienced in the scene.