Robyn Balmain: "a place where you can conquer anything"

Finding home in the House

Robyn’s first love was singing.

As a student at Milwaukee High School of the Arts, they majored in voice before adding dance to their résumé. The pivot proved to be predestined.

Introduced to ballroom by friend Rocky LaBeija, Robyn spent late-night hours mesmerized by icons such as Leiomy Maldonado, Tamara Rinaldo, and Kevin JZ Prodigy.

“I was hooked from that day on,” they laugh. 

“It looked like a place where someone like me—a Black, plus-size young man—could dominate.”

That revelation led Robyn to the House of Balmain, the family they now represent across the Midwest.

“Ballroom is first family before it’s competition,” they explain. 

“For people in our QPOC communities who face homelessness or rejection, a house can be a safe haven—a place to get a meal, a couch, a mentor, even a little cash if you’re short.”

Building safety and swagger for QPOC Milwaukee

Milwaukee’s ballroom scene may be younger than those in New York or Chicago, but its impact is profound.

Houses provide structured mentorship: veteran “Mothers” and “Fathers” teach runway technique, yes, but they also guide members through job hunts, college applications, hormone-replacement questions, and heartbreak.

The result is a culture of mutual aid that fills gaps mainstream institutions often ignore.

“Our pride events have historically catered to one demographic,” Robyn notes. 

“Yet queer people of color have always been the driving force of LGBTQ rights."

"Highlighting ballroom during Pride Month is a way to remind the city whose shoulders the movement stands on—and whose safety still hangs in the balance.”

Pride, visibility, and the fight against erasure

Robyn sees pride as a teachable moment.

“Ballroom is inherently queer—you can’t get more queer than ballroom. Showcasing it dismantles the idea that queer culture is monolithic or all about partying."

"It’s rooted in systemic struggles we’re still fighting to break.”

At the same time, they are wary of appropriation.

“Sometimes I think it should stay hidden,” they admit.

“When mainstream audiences cherry-pick our lingo and leave the labor, it hurts. But the benefits of visibility—resources, respect, representation—are too crucial to pass up.”