La B. Fujiko: "We are open to everyone, but with an underground heart"

I know nothing about dance. That’s exactly why I accepted the invitation to WVoices, the first edition of an event created to celebrate, protect, and discuss an important topic: the presence and treatment of women in dance. I took public transport and arrived at the event in the afternoon, after the talk but before the dance competition. The room, lit with neon blue and pink lights and buzzing with people, crackled with energy, life, and anticipation. The tension was palpable but not negative—quite the opposite. The event’s organizer herself, La B. Fujiko, introduced the competition. As she entered the room, the crowd erupted. Everyone recognized her—except me. That’s when I decided I needed to know more by going straight to the source: La B. Fujiko herself.

"I’m curious, interested in 8,000 things—maybe too many. I’m chaotic, but at the same time, a perfectionist when it comes to my projects. I generally feel non-conforming," La B. Fujiko told us when she visited our office. Her long, pink-and-blue hair matched her equally pink contact lenses, creating an almost serpentine effect—a stark contrast to her approachable and friendly demeanor. "My passion for dance started very spontaneously. I was always very shy and reserved, so I think dance became a way to express myself, to let out what I was holding inside. It started as a necessity, but over the years, I cultivated it by traveling and studying a lot," she shared.

La B. Fujiko: Dance as Subculture and Inclusion Tool

It’s impossible not to want to know more about how a dance genre can be part of a subculture. "My scene, which is Ballroom, isn’t just a gathering of dancers; it’s a fully-fledged queer community that shares ideas and supports each other. That’s why I believe dance can be part of a subculture—because a subculture is simply a group of people sharing values, languages, and codes. It’s essential to have a shared history, a motivation, a reason why this dance exists." In this specific case, the group promotes inclusion and acceptance. "Dance," La B. Fujiko explained, "can be a tool for connection, a glue that brings people together. But it also depends on the context and the people involved. Creating a safe and welcoming space is the responsibility of those who inhabit it; they must create the environment they want to live in."

What’s her role in this creation? She explained it to us using Ballroom terminology. "I hold the titles of Legend and Pioneer, as I was the first to work on building a scene and have continued to do so over the years. Before Ballroom, I was part of the hip-hop scene." These titles come with responsibilities, which La B. embraces wholeheartedly: "WVoices connects different scenes, bringing them together even on a thematic level. The event addresses sexism in dance, which is unfortunately still very present. Everyone at the event was united by the same motivation and their trust in me, built through the credibility I’ve earned over the years. I feel a responsibility, but it’s one I gladly accept because it defines my role. It allows me to speak out more than others can. If I can do it, I will—just as I wish someone had done for me in the past."

In short, it’s also about representation, creating spaces, and using one’s influence for others: "Representation is fundamental and can make a difference. I always try to give back to the community. Thanks to dance and my studies, I’ve had opportunities, and Ballroom isn’t something I created. So my way of giving back is by creating spaces for others," she explained. Then, she broadened the conversation: "I think everyone should try to make a difference in their own way. Give what they can, a small push in the direction they want to see the world move. Don’t just criticize and wait for change—take action. If we all act, it becomes a powerful wave."