As Florida curbs LGBTQ rights, queer teens gather for prom at Miami's Vizcaya Museum

MIAMI — They Cupid Shuffled. They whipped and nae-nae’d. They shook it like a Polaroid picture.

But this was not a regular prom: it was an extravaganza on a terrace overlooking Biscayne Bay.

On Saturday night, the gardens of Vizcaya Museum and Gardens were taken over by LGBTQ students from around Miami — about 96 in total — for the first prom ever held at the iconic waterfront estate. The theme: “Into the Garden.”

They wore everything from purple corduroy pants and platform sneakers to baby blue ball gowns that matched the evening sky above Biscayne Bay. Many had never seen Vizcaya before.

The estate was built in the early 20th century by James Deering. Paul Chalfin, a queer artist, helped build the villa. Chalfin lived with his male partner on a houseboat docked at the property.

For Artemis Cruz, 17, who just graduated from José Martí MAST, the night was more than a party.

“I’m pretty excited because it’s kind of history,” he said. “This is the first time I had a big idea and it came to fruition,” said the student, who was one of the students who came up with the idea for the prom.

Cruz said he had once gone to a queer prom at a library. “It was ‘eh,’” he said. He skipped his school’s prom because he didn’t feel comfortable in that environment.

Cruz was not the only one who was excited to have prom at such an iconic location.

“I wasn’t ready for this much amazement,” said Nicole De Souza, 18, who arrived a bit late, not knowing how beautiful Vizcaya would be. “It’s so pretty! I love it! I wish I wore my actual dress. It’s like a dream come true!”

De Souza, who just graduated from Pompano Beach High School, wore a floor-length teal sequin gown. But it wasn’t enough. She wished she wore the quinceañera-style ball gown she wore to her school’s prom.

Ludwin Arauz, 18, who just graduated from Felix Varela High School, was close to having gone to high school and never attend prom at all. “I never cared for it… but, this place is actually insane, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

The “queer prom,” as students were calling it, was organized by Safe Schools South Florida, a nonprofit founded in 1991 to support gay students.

Historically, the organization would provide teacher training’s, work with individual schools’ Gay-Straight Alliance clubs, and host an annual empowerment day — where students would get a permission slip to leave school and attend a district-wide event with games and motivational speakers. School buses provided by the district would transport them.

But now, nearly all of Safe Schools’ programming happens outside the school district’s purview.

Since the passage of Florida’s Parental Rights in Education Act — or the “Don’t Say Gay” law — signed by Governor Ron DeSantis in 2022, Miami-Dade schools have largely stepped back from visible support for LGBTQ students. Even a symbolic resolution to recognize LGBTQ History Month was rejected by the school board for the past three years.

The state has imposed restrictions on classroom discussions of gender and sexuality, and banned access to gender-affirming healthcare for transgender minors.

Yariel Genao, a junior, had planned to arrive in style — but had a mishap.

“So I was in the car, and when I got out, I felt my sole touch the floor — oh no…” His gold heels had broken completely. He entered Vizcaya with bare feet and his shoes in hand. “I don’t know how I am going to tell her,” he said of the friend he borrowed them from.

At the green screen photo booth in the plant-filled courtyard, Jessica Lam, a trans woman who “has been a member of the community before there was a community,” was running the booth. She listed off the backdrop options: “You can be in outer space!” she said, or, “You can go to Paris.”

The group chose the flaming background. “Act like we’re burning!” said one friend. Lam texted them the photo. As they laughed at the photo, one friend joked, “Us going to hell after going to queer prom.”

Latisha Buffenoir, 18, showed up with a group of 10 friends, all picked up in a black car provided by the event. She wore black pants, dress shoes, and a vest. Her date, Abigail Chico, wore a petticoat, corset, and lingerie top — all in the style of the Gilded Age. Her friend Evelyn Ventura wore a corset her mom got her from Spain.

The music was handled by DJ Citizen Jane, an openly gay DJ who kept the dance floor full with a mix of Chappell Roan, Kendrick Lamar, and throwbacks from the 2010s.

Although the music was a bit too loud for some students, who wore earphones and earplugs.

“It’s loud, but yay gay people!” said Lin Sutton, a home school student who brought a small notepad and was sketching the architecture of the building as they waited for the dinner banquet portion of the event to begin.

“I’m just grateful for this to exist,” said Sutton.

At the end of the event, they crowned nine students Kings, Queens and Monarchs, using a sound meter to measure which contestant received the most enthusiastic response. The ‘monarch’ category was created to provide a category for non-binary students.

“We are not banging our head against the door, we are going to do things without the school boards help,” said Scott Galvin, the executive director and former elected official.

“Yes, it was a heavy financial lift to go to Vizcaya, but I wanted to do it there because other queer proms are at an Elks Lodge or a library. I wanted these kids who are not being celebrated as much right now, to have a first class prom experience.”

“That is pure queer joy,” said Harold Marrero, the chief operating officer for the organization, watching the students dance after they finished their dinner.

He added the event was a testament to the fact that “we are not going to hide, go back in the closet or go underground, and we are going to enjoy the freedoms we have worked so hard to obtain.”