I have spent a significant portion of my life covered in glitter, drenched in hairspray, and blinded by fluorescent bulbs. My parents put me in ballet classes when I was just 3 years old, and since then the stage has been my second home. Even as a small child, I took my passion for dance very seriously. I was in the studio everyday of the week and spent countless additional hours twirling around my bedroom ensuring that I knew every step of my routines by heart. I wish I could say that these motivations came purely from my love of the sport, but this would not be entirely true.

Living in a small town where the population was white, it was no surprise that I was consistently the only black girl in all my dance classes. Yet this never discouraged me from coming to class every week. I showed up with the goal of my talent being my reason for standing out, rather than my skin tone. This motivation worked exceptionally well, landing me front and center placements in a majority on my routines. This was thrilling and rewarding up until it came time to take the stage. As the music swelled and the lights warmed my dark skin, it became abundantly clear how much I stood out from the rest of the group. A sunflower in a filed of roses, it felt as though every eye in the audience was locked on my trembling frame. While in any other setting this would send me running for safety, I was standing on my very own oasis. The plywood beneath my feet beckoned me to take up space. The pointe shoes wrapped around my ankle were begging to take flight; and so I let them. Without any second thoughts I let the music take control of my muscles and let every shred of anxiety wash away.

This is how I learned that I did not need to separate who I was from what I am capable of. I didn’t need to run away from an opportunity I earned just because the spotlight was too bright. Now I proudly let the illumination wash over me and ensure that if eyes were going to be focused on me, I would give them a performance worth watching.