Houses for transvestites

Beginning in the late 20th century, Black and Latino drag queens began to organize their own pageants in opposition to racism experienced in established drag queen pageant circuits. Though racially integrated for the participants, the judges of these circuits were mostly white people. Attendees "walk" these categories for trophies and cash prizes. Most participants in Ballroom belong to groups known as "houses," where chosen families of friends form relationships and communities separate from their families of origin, from which they may be estranged. All houses were founded in U. Houses that win trophies and gain recognition through years of participation usually ten years reach the rank of legendary.

New York, A disco ball sparkles over a circular dance floor where a group of transgender dancers are illuminated in sumptuous outfits and bold colors, moving to exaggerated model poses in an almost poetic dance. The second season of the hit Netflix series — now online — recounts the world of American ballrooms and Houses during the Eighties — tried and true places for the black and hispanic LGBTQ community to express themselves. Ballrooms were the dance floors with theatrical layouts surrounded by neon lights, where gays and trans POC could challenge each other in the art of voguing an homage to Vogue magazine, but also the hit by Madonna, who brought the dance to mainstream pop : battles of style and beauty that imitated the moves of models on the runway, somewhere between a fashion show and a nightclub. In the Netflix series Pose , they challenge one another to reach the historic House of Abundance and the newly formed House of Evangelista — an homage to top model Linda Evangelista. The latter is guided by Blanca, an HIV positive trans woman who decides to abandon her old life in search of better fortune elsewhere, founding her very own house. She soon welcomes Damon, rejected by his family for his homosexuality and with the dream to become a professional dancer, and Angel, a trans woman in love with a white collar type working for Donald Trump.

Angelica Butler was tired of having to out herself as a transgender woman every time she applied for a job or tried to rent an apartment. Prospective landlords and employers rejected applications when her identity documents didn't match her gender, ultimately throwing her in-and-out of homelessness for seven years. Now, Butler, 35, hopes to become the owner of a square-feet tiny home with its own bedroom and kitchen in Memphis, Tennessee, as part of a landmark project started by grassroots organization My Sistah's House to help solve transgender homelessness.

A home is a feeling — a sense of safety, family or love. A tethered connection no matter where you go. Marissa Miller knows what that looks like.