Dance, disco and drama: Inside the world of Atlanta’s waacking scene
Attending a waacking class feels like a spiritual experience.
On a Monday night in August, at a studio in the Atlanta’s Creative Rental Space, a group of 13 students — of all races and ethnicities — stretch along to the Hues Corporation’s 1974 hit “Rock the Boat.” A few more students trickle in as the class progresses.
The dancers are encouraged to immerse themselves in the beat while elongating their arms. Some hug. Others feed off the energy of the next dancer. Some wear pink suits, mimicking the style of their instructor.
From afar, watching the class makes you crave the same freedom and familial ethos exerted in movement.
“Just feel.”
“There’s nothing extra you can do but just be yourself.”
“Put power into it.”
Those are pointers that Vince Nguyen instills in his ardent students, most of whom are queer, in his weekly class aptly called Waacklanta. Attendees are united in one goal: learning the history and skills of waacking, a street dance style characterized by swift arm movements created by Black and brown queer communities in 1970s Los Angeles.
The classes are rooted in liberation and community. Students find joy in their moves as they dance to the tune of songs like Rick James’ “Cold Blooded” and Cher’s “Bad Love.”
In two years, Waacklanta has grown into a bold, competitive group of dancers and friends who are keen to share the faith and freedom of waacking with the South and beyond.
“Everything I do is for the gays, whether it’s for dance or for my actual academic life,” said Nguyen, a doctoral student at Emory. He’s pursuing a Ph.D. in epidemiology focused on mental health issues within the LGBTQ community.
“It’s nice to have purpose in everything. I know some people can’t always have purpose in what (they) do. Sometimes you just got to collect your check. But at least for me, I get to be passionate about what I do. I love that.”
Waacking to the world
Along with classes, Waacklanta hosts two big dance battles: a competition in August (fittingly titled Heat) and one in February (fittingly titled Love). They also have a few beginner battles throughout the year.
The collective’s recent Heat competition attracted more than 100 people from across the country who participated in waacking workshops and battles for three days. About 60 dancers competed in three waacking categories in front of an audience and eight judges.
“What we do is refreshing,” said Nguyen, whose stage name is “Venus.” (When performing, waackers use a stage name that reflects their style and personality.) “It’s different. It’s disco, it’s glamorous, gay.”
The son of Vietnamese immigrants, Nguyen was raised in Sterling Heights, Michigan. As a child, the 26-year-old enjoyed playing Just Dance video games so much that he created a YouTube channel dedicated to mimicking moves from the game. In high school and college at Michigan State University, he formed dance groups rooted in Asian dance styles. While in undergrad, he was introduced to waacking on YouTube.
But he didn’t start getting serious about it until he moved to New York City to attend graduate school at Columbia University. There, he started taking waacking classes under the tutelage of Princess Lockerooo, who’s known as the “queen of waacking.”
Waacking is commonly compared to vogue, given both dance styles were born from Black and brown queer cultures, but there are striking differences.
Princess Lockerooo, 39, explained that while voguing has origins in the fashion community and got a boost from ballroom culture and pop culture, waacking was more underground and not competition-based. The style started disappearing when its founders died of AIDs.
“Waacking was more inspired by Hollywood movie stars and silent film actors,” said the New York City resident, whose real name is Samara Cohen-O’Neal. “So if you look at Greta Garbo, Marilyn Monroe. Those actors, when they posed, it wasn’t like, ‘I’m posing, just look at my outfit.’ The poses were driven by intention and storytelling. So waacking is actually a little bit more theater. You’re taking the behavior of a silent film actor and turning it into a dance.”
Lockerooo helped lead the style’s resurgence in the early aughts. She was trained by legendary “Soul Train” dancer Tyrone Procter, who taught waacking classes across the globe.
Today, waacking is more popular overseas (especially in Asia), although there are small pockets in the U.S. where the dance has taken off. Inspired by Princess Lockerooo, Nguyen wanted to create his own community of waackers in Atlanta upon attending Emory University.
He hosted his first class in November 2023 with nine students paying $15 apiece. But attendance dropped in the following months, leaving Nguyen to ponder whether he should continue.
Then, in April 2024, he made the class free. Roughly 50 people attended. That’s when Nguyen knew he had to keep going. Waacklanta classes have been donation-based ever since.
Waacklanta grew its audience in January when student Jasmine Broughton did a waacking routine during halftime at a Falcons game. Mills, with Nguyen’s guidance, waacked to the Ciara and Missy Elliott hit “Lose Control,” eventually going viral with more than 200,000 views and leading to a “Today Show” appearance.
For Nguyen, creating a space where queer people can dance and simply explore their individuality is as essential as waacking itself.
“A lot of my students are queer, and they don’t necessarily get to have that space to express themselves and explore. A lot of them are also drag performers … and they take that into what they do to represent us out in the real world.
Feel the heat
Atlanta drag queen Dotte Com joined Waacklanta last summer. At the time, she was vaguely aware of the style and wanted to learn more. “Controlling your arms in the most complex ways” was mentally stimulating, she said.
As a drag performer, Dotte Com said the waacking classes have helped her be more attentive to musicality when dancing.
“When you’re doing drag, you’re stunting. You always want a moment, like something really big and electric all the time. But with waacking, we’re shown the power of taking a breath and taking a beat to make our expressions more dramatic, and that has immensely changed the way I perform.”
Dotte Com said Waacklanta has become a community.
“I’m friends with these people. The class lasts for two hours, and sometimes after class is done at 9 p.m., we will stay till 11 p.m. just talking to each other.”
Mar Childers, whose waacking name is Misty, is similarly drawn to Waacklanta’s inclusive community. Waacking draws inspiration from comic books, and Childers enjoys the thrill of creating a different persona with waacking.
“I think it’s helped me become more confident in my dancing. In my day to day, I’m a little bit more reserved, a little bit more introverted and calm. But when I’m Misty or whatever, I’m relatively loud. I’ve found that it allows me to tap into different characters. It allows me to be someone a little bit different, or different parts of who I am, alongside people who I care about.”
Nguyen hopes to parlay Waacklanta into it a full blown dance studio, cultivating a space for people to learn street dance styles in Atlanta. He’d like to pass it on to students to ensure the community remains sustainable.
“It just really means a lot to see people fall in love with the style, but also fall in love with themselves and discover themselves,” he said. “I think, as an educator and as a teacher, that’s really one of my greatest crowning achievements, just seeing how this style has revolutionized their life.”
For more info
Waacklanta. Foundations of waacking class, 7-9 p.m. Mondays. Recommended donation $10-$20. Creative Rental Space, 1483 Chattahoochee Ave. NW, Suite 110, Atlanta. DM Waacklanta on Instagram to reserve a spot. waacklanta.square.site
About the Author
DeAsia is a music and culture reporter for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. She focuses on the intersection of arts, culture and diverse communities, as well as how emerging social trends are being expressed through the lens of the Atlanta aesthetic. DeAsia's work can be seen in Pitchfork, Essence, Teen Vogue, Elle and more.
