Inside the Majestic Ball

On a summer night at the Paramount Theatre, the runway lights up with shimmer and precision. Competitors glide, pose, and vogue to a roar that feels less like spectacle and more like a homecoming. The Majestic Ball, staged annually by Pride in Black ATX, is the centerpiece of a new, community-built effort to center Black LGBTQ artistry and safety in a city that has long celebrated queer culture but rarely on these specific terms, according to Austin Free Press.

Born from a scandal

Pride in Black ATX came together in 2022 after the abrupt dissolution of Austin Black Pride the same year, which organizers say collapsed following financial mismanagement, as reported by Austin Free Press. A small group of friends—who jokingly call themselves the “Black Queer Avengers”—stepped in to fill the vacuum. The co-founders are Sonita Haynes, Rya West, Ryan Thompson, and Jeaux Anderson, Jr., according to Austin Free Press.

Haynes said the Avengers “felt called to pick up the ball where it was dropped.” West, who previously worked with Austin Black Pride, recalled the fallout: “I felt so much shame even though I had nothing to do with it. Most of the people working there had nothing to do with it, but it made it hard for people to rebuild trust.” Anderson put the stakes plainly: “In white queer spaces, there was racism. In Black spaces, there was homophobia.” Thompson added: “Being in spaces where you can’t embrace every part of your culture is disheartening,” the co-founders told Austin Free Press.

A collective model, by design

Starting over meant rethinking structure. “We’ve shied away from having a president or vice president,” Thompson explained. “We are truly a collective” that embraces transparency, organizers said in interviews with Austin Free Press. The group is pursuing 501(c)(3) status deliberately—“We’ve taken our time getting that 501(c)3 status,” Haynes said. “Because we want to establish trust before we start accepting donations.”

Until then, Pride in Black ATX leans on fiscal sponsorships and community partners—including allgo, the Kind Clinic, Vivent Health, Whatsinthemirror, and Austin Public Health—to fund year-round events, according to Austin Free Press. The co-founders do not take pay. “We do this for the love,” Haynes said.

The work is urgent and often unglamorous. Organizers described the strain of volunteer-powered logistics—slow replies, plans that fall through, and a constant hunt for reliable, affordable venues. With Austin’s cost of living roughly 29% higher than the national average—placing it among the nation’s least affordable large metro areas—renting space can be a program-killer, according to Austin Free Press.

The political reality

Local pressures meet a hardening statewide climate. Texas lawmakers filed a record wave of anti-transgender bills in 2025, a surge that raises legal, financial, and safety risks for LGBTQ organizations, according to Axios. While most similar measures failed in the prior session, organizers say the drumbeat alone intensifies the need for culture-specific spaces and mutual protection.

“We want to build a coalition that fosters safety,” West said. “Like a fortress,” the co-founders told Austin Free Press.

What Pride in Black ATX builds

The ballroom runway is one thread in a broader tapestry. The Majestic Ball’s categories—face, runway, bizarre, and performance—put technique and presence at the center, with winners taking home $1,000, according to Austin Free Press. Ballroom draws on a century-plus of Black and Latinx queer innovation—houses, categories, and performance as sanctuary—traditions the group is intentional about honoring, organizers said to Austin Free Press.

Between marquis nights, the collective keeps a steady calendar: a New Year’s Eve potluck partly catered by Austin drag mainstay Diamond Dior; donation drives; hikes; reality TV watch parties; and film programs that have revived the landmark series Noah’s Arc and paired Rafiki with Pariah for a community double feature—all rooted in affirming Black queer storytelling, according to Austin Free Press. “I would love to do more Black-queer cinema,” Thompson said. “I’d like to do more community conversations and panels, too.” The point, Haynes added, is intimacy as much as spectacle: “Having intimate gatherings, we can really just like let our hair down.”

West and Thompson—often referred to as “Ry squared”—frame the mission in practical terms. “That’s why we’re about fostering safety. We can’t just be for the butch queens and the gays,” West said. “We have to be inclusive for the girls, the thems, and the not able-bodied folks,” the co-founders told Austin Free Press.

Governance lessons and next steps

What happened to Austin Black Pride offers a cautionary map. Nonprofits most often stumble on weak oversight, poor bookkeeping, and the absence of basic internal controls, a pattern that can collapse even beloved groups, according to Austin Free Press. The remedy is unglamorous: written financial policies, segregation of duties, approval hierarchies, and clear, public reporting that earns trust over time.

Organizers and advisors say Pride in Black ATX’s collective model can deepen belonging—so long as it’s paired with durable administrative systems. Reporting by Austin Free Press points to several near-term priorities:

  • Finalize 501(c)(3) status and adopt written financial policies, budgeting, and regular independent reviews.
  • Diversify revenue through small donors, grants, sponsorships, and fee-for-service programming to avoid overreliance on a single source.
  • Secure a dependable, low-cost venue for recurring gatherings while reserving historic spaces like the Paramount for marquee events; negotiate multi-event discounts and in-kind support.
  • Deepen formal partnerships with public health and community organizations—such as Austin Public Health and allgo—for program funding and outreach.
  • Publish transparent event budgets and fundraising outcomes to rebuild and sustain donor confidence.
  • Expand recurring, smaller-scale programs that grow volunteer pipelines and leadership capacity.

Why it matters now

Austin’s LGBTQ institutions—from allgo to Out Youth to Austin Pride—have shaped the city’s civic life for decades. Pride in Black ATX adds something still scarce: a coalition that centers Black queer culture and safety day in and day out, according to Austin Free Press. In a costly city and a volatile political season, that mix of cultural specificity and organizational rigor may determine whether the runway at the Paramount remains just a single, luminous night—or a durable home where a community can keep walking, together, into the light.