IN CONVERSATION WITH A SIREN: MARETA FROM BALLROOM’S ‘HOUSE OF DAWN’ Content Warning: Mentions of Discrimination, Racism, and Homophobia Interviewer: Tall, queer, brown and beautiful. I’ve always had a fascination with how people walk, the purposefulness of their direction, led with their own two feet. Sounds easy doesn’t it? But as young Pasifika people, who are navigating family, religion, and the politics of bodies versus the reality of fluidity, it can be incredibly difficult to put one foot in front of the other. I had the privilege of sitting down with Mareta from Tāmaki Makarau, who is the Sex Siren of Avant House of Dawn. “Dawn is like the first light spilling, breaking up the darkness of the night,” they said. We got together to discuss everything Samoan, queer, and how judgement only restrains joy. Mareta has an assurance about themselves, an effortless swag and comfort in their skin. A tangible magnetic energy you’re drawn to, when they walk in the room. Where do you source your power? Mareta: I know I love a song when I start to envision myself doing the damn thing. In karaoke, on stage, in my room. Making up a whole ass routine, in an outfit I don’t own, with flexibility that my parents didn’t give to me. Power comes from my dreams. In the moments with myself, when I’m listening to what’s out there and what’s within to allow this energy exchange. In embracing the divine feminine and divine masculine inside me. It is then that I’m able to share that power with myself and others in a free and safe space. I feel that power continues to make more sense of itself. How has Samoan / Pacific Island culture influenced your performances? It just does, because it is within me, it can never not be. My culture is something I keep learning about more and more everyday, in how I feel it and what it looks like in this new age. It will keep growing stronger in my practice and I hope to feed back into it. In the documentary ‘Paris is Burning’, Venus, a trans woman, competes in the Ballroom category of ‘realness’. She embodies her real self, occupying a space to be who she truly is, as the streets of reality constrain her to their interpretation of her physical
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form. Her performance is her truth. Minorities and people with neurodivergence have been conditioned to ‘mask’, embodying social norms for safety and acceptance. This spoke to me, as a whitepassing queer Samoan, in institutions such as VUW. Authenticity is daunting. My worst moments are when I slip into this mask, when it takes hold of me and keeps me passive and the same. Have you had experiences where you perform as ‘real’, or ‘mask’ to fit in, like Venus? I think Venus just wanted the world to see her how she knew herself to be, and I think a lot of people want that. To be seen and heard, received in love, in empowering ways. Masks can be created to protect ourselves as queer POC when navigating and shifting into spaces. For me that mask shifted from how I thought I was supposed to be, to knowing and creating my own way of being. Both are as real as each other, because I am too. There are different categories that you can walk in Ballroom, such as Runway, or themes like Business Woman. Ballroom offers opportunities that are denied in reality. A chance to be celebrated as well as share our stories. Queer people, especially queer kids, need to be received with love. Ballroom allows you to stand in power, a celebration of who you are when you walk. It’s a celebration of your story and your reality, the ones we deserve to live.
