We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Christian Green. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Christian below.

Hi Christian, thanks for joining us today. Alright, so you had your idea and then what happened? Can you walk us through the story of how you went from just an idea to executing on the idea

It started with a question: What would it look like to create something bold, safe, and culturally rooted for LGBTQ+ youth in the Antelope Valley? Especially those navigating housing insecurity, transphobia, and isolation.

The idea for the Legacy Ball came during a time of deep reflection and organizing. At Sanctuary of Hope (SOH), we had always worked to support transition-age youth—those aging out of foster care, facing homelessness, or simply in need of affirmation. But in 2024, with trans rights increasingly under attack and the stakes getting higher for Black and Brown queer youth, it became clear: we needed more than services. We needed celebration, visibility, and community.

So the concept was born: bring Ballroom culture to the Antelope Valley. Not as performance—but as empowerment.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

My work is at the intersection of culture, care, and community. I’m one of the lead organizers behind the Legacy Ball—a celebration of Black and Brown LGBTQ+ brilliance in the Antelope Valley—and a proud leader with Sanctuary of Hope (SOH), a nonprofit rooted in supporting transition-age youth (TAY) facing housing insecurity and systemic exclusion.

I didn’t enter this work through a traditional business route. I entered it through lived experience as a foster child myself—through watching youth navigate foster care, houselessness, identity-based violence, and still show up with joy, creativity, and resilience. Over time, I realized that healing and liberation don’t always come through systems alone. Sometimes, they come through culture and community—through spaces like ballroom.

That’s how the Legacy Ball was born.

Our work is about transformation—not just providing services, but building spaces where people can show up fully. At SOH, we support youth aged 16-25 with housing navigation, education access, mental health referrals, and leadership development. With the Legacy Ball, we’ve added another layer: creative empowerment.

We offer:

Culturally-rooted community events like the Legacy Ball that center Black and Brown queer voices.

Sponsorship and advocacy platforms for businesses and donors to directly support LGBTQ+ youth in need.

Workshops and leadership development grounded in dignity, identity, and social justice.

What sets us apart is that our work is not charity—it’s solidarity. We don’t “serve youth.” We build with them. We don’t just throw events—we curate healing. We don’t operate with saviorism—we center lived experience, cultural relevance, and unapologetic joy.

We are most proud of the fact that Legacy Ball isn’t just an event—it’s a portal. A place where youth aging out of the system can walk in and feel seen. A space where trans folks are affirmed, not legislated against. A night where housing leads turn into safe homes. A platform where ballroom becomes balm.

For anyone considering partnering with us, following our work, or supporting our mission, here’s what we want you to know:

We are bold. We are deeply rooted. And we are building legacy and an equitable world—not just for one night, but for generations.

Whether you’re a donor, a dancer, a policymaker, or a young person looking for hope—we have a place for you here.

Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?

One of the stories that best illustrates my resilience begins before I even understood what resilience meant.

I was born in a prison cell—to an incarcerated mother and a father I’ve never known. From day one, the odds were stacked against me. I didn’t have the luxury of a soft landing in this world, but I had something just as powerful: a will to survive. A will to rise.

I was raised by my grandparents, who took legal custody of me and did their best to provide stability in a life that constantly shifted. We moved all over California—from San Bernardino to Fresno, and eventually to Lancaster when I was 12. Every new city meant starting over. New schools, new friends, new ways of trying to find a sense of belonging.

But nothing could have prepared me for the heartbreak I experienced at age 15 when my grandmother—my anchor, my protector—passed away. Her death shattered me. I lost not just a guardian, but my foundation. Grief took over, and with it came rebellion. I withdrew from school, lost focus, and for a time, I let go of my goals. It felt like the world had turned its back on me—and honestly, I turned my back on it too.

But the truth about rock bottom is, it can be a place of reckoning. In the midst of pain, I began to realize that no one was going to hand me a way out—I would have to build it myself. Slowly, I began to rebuild. I returned to school. I sought mentorship. I started using my voice—not just to tell my story, but to help others feel seen in theirs.

What I’ve learned is that resilience isn’t about being unaffected. It’s about refusing to stay broken. It’s about honoring your pain while choosing your purpose. And I’ve turned my purpose into action—through community work, through building spaces like the Legacy Ball, and through showing other young people that their story doesn’t have to end where it started.

Can you talk to us about how you funded your business?

I didn’t come from a background where capital was easily accessible. There was no inheritance, no investors, no big-name donors waiting in the wings. What I did have was a vision that resonated with people, and a community ready to rally.

We started small. I reached out to trusted people in my network—community organizers, fellow creatives, and nonprofit leaders. I explained the vision: this would be more than a ball. It would be a night of transformation, expression, and visibility.

We asked for what we needed—cash, yes, but also in-kind donations: venues, DJ equipment, catering, volunteer time, even fabric and makeup for youth who needed help walking in a category.

We also ran community-based fundraising campaigns—using platforms like social media to tell our story and invite people to contribute what they could. Even $10 donations added up, especially when we paired them with storytelling. Everything was grassroots. Everything was collective. And every dollar was tied to impact.

We didn’t fund our business through wealth—we funded it through faith, community, and purpose.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.christiandgreen.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christian423
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristianDG423/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/christian-d-green
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@ChristianDGreen