Why do I dance? Albert Evans strutting downstage in the finale of Red Angels by Ulysses Dove. That’s the short answer. But of course, I have to make this a little more dramatic—add a little flavor. (Would you expect anything less?)
When I was a kid, my parents put on a PBS broadcast of New York City Ballet performing Red Angelsand, suddenly, there he was: Albert. Someone who looked like me, doing exactly what I dreamed of doing. I definitely wasn’t lacking in the passion category. One of my favorite childhood gifts was a balance beam my dad made me because I was obsessed with Dominique Dawes in the Olympics. I’d choreograph routines and force my parents to judge me—and if they dared score below a 10? Well, that’s where more drama came in. I even staged a one-man Nutcrackerstarring myself and inspired by the iconic 1993 version with Macaulay Culkin. A Christmas-tree skirt was my tutu, Mom’s heels were my pointe shoes (major foreshadowing—just missing the treadmill), and our chandelier made the perfect spotlight.
I just needed the permission to harness the passion I had. That came in the form of Albert—and Alvin Ailey, and Arthur Mitchell, and Lauren Anderson, trailblazers who said, “Yes, you can be a dancer.”
Dance gave me a road map. Seeing Ailey sparked my curiosity; ballet training became the next step; Houston Ballet became the dream. I’ve experienced setbacks—an injury requiring surgery just a year ago—and the thrill of being thrown onstage with a day’s notice. Each challenge demanded precision, grit, and a stomach-dropping willingness to be vulnerable. Sometimes the greatest moments emerge from the toughest challenges, revealing strength and resilience we never knew we had.
Dance, and these dancers who led the way, taught me that vision strengthens work, and work strengthens vision. That mindset is how possibility turns into purpose, and purpose into reality. And for me it unlocked the power of self-discipline and the joy of self-discovery. It sharpened how I create, how I move, how I navigate this world. Dance has given me the courage to embrace my identity, overcome the hurdles, and then celebrate it—fearlessly—onstage.
I dance because of the artists who came before me. I dance because when you push your limits, you meet your truest self. I dance to one day meet Beyoncé. I kept dancing so I could become a principal dancer with Houston Ballet. Now that I’ve accomplished that, I keep dancing to see what I can achieve next.
Arthur Mitchell said, “What does dance give you? The freedom to be who you are and do what you want to do.”
That’s why I dance.
