After the response of last weeks post, it occurred to me that there just is not enough exposure to the beauty of our natural tresses. Conceptions about hair are shallow and antiquated. No woman should have to hide one of the wonderful attributes of her unique beauty. Uniformity not only places a heavy tax on diversity, but it can sometimes be really boring!
I have spoken before regarding the beauty of diversity in its many natural manifestations. Diversity should be reflected in people the same way it is reflected in the wonderment of nature. Mother earth in all its exquisite beauty provides the perfect template and inspiration for diversity not only in art, but throughout our lives.
In ending this post, I wanted to put together images that displayed the elegance and beauty found in well taken care of natural African -American hair.
I came across this photo while doing some research on my last post. It was the observation in the paragraph that followed which presented an interesting topic and stirred up some uncomfortable memories from my past. The comment went as follows:
“i find the natural hair charming/interesting, esp because a black ballet dancer would almost certainly have to straighten/pull back her hair, unless the company was alt/up-and-coming/deliberately provocative. but i don’t think i’ve ever seen a picture of a black ballet dancer with a fro. natural hair, yes. fro, no.”
This comment made me recall several instances where my hair caused me to feel distant and removed from the classical art I had grown to love. There were many ballets where the dancer was meant to wear their hair down, and the image of long flowing locks billowing through the air as the dancers movement graced the stage was a breathtaking image for all who observed. Many of the ballets highlighted hair as the dancers were required to either wear long ponytails or have lengthy hair that draped and flowed during performances. This built in aesthetic posed real challenges to many girls no matter what ethnicity, but an even greater challenge for myself and other dancers of color. Luckily, we all had tricks up their sleeves to overcome these natural challenges. One particular instance during my time at Bejart Ballet will forever stick with me. While choreographing a new piece, Maurice Bejart instructed each dancer to let down their hair to see if he could incorporate that into the piece. He instructed each girl, one by one to take down their hair, and as I stood their watching each girl’s hair fall gracefully down their backs, my insecurity begin crawling its way up my spine. My hair is textured and not prone to falling down straight like what I have seen in many ballets. I believed in protecting my hair by keeping it natural and avoiding harsh and damaging chemical perms and relaxers. I also enjoyed the versatility that my natural hair provided. However, inside I knew this was not the image he was looking for. I certainly had never seen any evidence that my hair type was desired as the above comment so pointedly stated. Therefore, when my turn came and I loosened my hair band—my hair puffed out crinkly and curly, not straight down. Maurice smiled and some dancers chuckled. Luckily, I was a much more mature dancer and was able to brush off such a reaction. I could only image how such insensitivity would have affected me as a younger dancer. However, this episode still bothered me. It never feels good to be laughed at because of who you are. However, although I was offended and disappointed, I was not surprised.
Recently I found an article from the Afro-Europe International Blog. It mentioned an episode in the Netherlands where a young Dutch girl was excluded from attending a ballet class because her hair was not worn in the required smooth bun. Actions were then taken against the school and hopefully this issue was resolved, but it does leave me torn. I do believe that ballet requires great discipline and that begins in the ballet studio. This involves a strict dress code, fierce work ethic, respectful demeanor and of course requirements on hair. I came from a school that didn't even allow girls to wear bangs. Thanks to the billion dollar hair industry, there are a plethora of options out there for achieving this "classical look." However, what happens to that little girl who may not have any of these options? Should the little girl, with hair too short to pull back in a bun or who’s too young for chemical relaxers be turned away from class? Is it fair to turn away a dancer who fits all the necessary requirements, but whose hair doesn't make the cut? Should a young dancer do whatever it takes achieve the perfect aesthetic? I struggle with my own feelings regarding this issue because there is a part of me that says, "ballet has strict requirements and we need to try our best to adhere to them.” Strict discipline is what sets ballet apart from many other art forms." At the same time, there is the other part of me which feels that there’s more to art than hair. I feel my identity is being attacked because my hair represents who I am, my roots. Watering down my ethnicity seems to be what is expected of me and that leaves many wounds especially for a young girl just beginning to understand who she is. There is a uniformity that is required in ballet and I assume hair is part of that. Although, a blogger once wrote that I, as an African American dancer, disrupted the uniformity and clean lines of an otherwise all white performance. Should we accept such commentary as the classical standard, or should we challenge it as narrow-mindedness and prejudice?
In all segments of life, African American women are struggling to fit into a European model. Straightening their hair helps them “fit in” while wearing their hair natural is seen as a provocative statement. Why should choosing to wear your hair naturally be seen as a statement? Recently, Sesame Street's head writer, Joey Mazzarino, was inspired to create a skit to help his daughter, as well as other young Af. Am. girls appreciate their beauty. This inspiration sparked when his daughter displayed a dislike of her own hair after playing with Barbie dolls. The video soon went viral, and even plucked at the heart strings of older African-American women. What consequences do these classical notions of beauty have on all of us?
It’s amazing to think something as little as how I wear my hair became such a big deal.
What we don't see is sometimes as impactful as what we do.
Art by Soniya Hardy
Images have power! As a young ballerina, I was always deeply moved whenever I had the rare occasion to come across the image of an African-American ballerina. Even as a young child I was aware of the deeply personal and moving nature of such imagery. The strong and beautiful lines projected onto canvas or in print were so exceptionally rare, so poignant—they filled me with inspiration and a sense of belief in myself. Only recently has Disney created a black character in The Princess and the Frog. Upon learning of this important breakthrough, after merely 100 years of filmmaking, I thought to myself, "how wonderful for a little girl of color to go to the theatre and see an animated princess who looks like her." As a young dancer, the absence of self-affirming images had a huge impact on how I felt about myself, and also affected the image I thought I needed to portray to be accepted.
I want to thank the artist like Soniya Hardy, Scott D. Allen, Amy Everhart as well as many other artist who choose to utilize African-American ballerinas.
Do discussions about race serve to perpetuate racial attitudes and hamper progress?
"Shut up and dance!" A stark and brutal statement indeed, but it's what my colleagues and I would say to each other for excessive whining. Though said half jokingly, this response caused me to think that either my complaints were petty, or were they simply falling on deaf ears. It also reminds me of how as dancers we are expected to endure great pain, work arduously and keep our suffering to ourselves. Actually, those who endured the most and complained the least seemed to be very well respected and admired.
Recently a friend, who is not African-American, shared a discussion she had over a dinner with a group of women. The topic of the discussion was what the group perceived to be incessant griping by people of color about" their plight." One of these ladies seemed to think that such complaining only made things more difficult for the complainers. After my friend had given a full account of this conversation, I posed several questions to myself. For instance, were individuals in the dance world also fed up with constant reminders of diversity problems? Do discussions about race serve to perpetuate racial attitudes and hamper progress? Does the failure to address significant racial disparities in society make issues of race and inequality go away?
I never wanted to spotlight my race throughout my career, but the topic always seemed to arise. If it wasn't the random interviewers that seemed to surface every Black History Month, it was the inquisitive onlooker who wondered why there were so few women of color in ballet. I imagine this question would not have ran through their minds had they not seen at least a minority presence. Regardless of this focus on my color, I didn't want to spotlight my race. I knew who I was and where I came from. However, as an artist, I wanted to perfect my craft to such an extent that others would be forced to see beyond the color of my skin. Although, this was my approach, I believe that everyone has a right to overcome obstacles in the way that suits their individual circumstance. No matter what our approach, the end result is to be appreciated and acknowledged for our art.
This blog is not an effort to stir up yet another tired conversation about race. I simply want to provoke thought and hopefully create solutions for a more inclusive experience in the genre I love so much. It is my sincere hope that honest dialogue, sincere fellowship and real change will result in a world where such conversations are relics from a day long gone.
PRAYERS FOR JAPAN
Photo taken from The New York Times
I couldn't let this week's posting go by without taking a moment to acknowledge those who have lost lives and those continuing to suffer in Japan. I have worked in Japan quite a bit and have met some great people, on and off the stage. My thoughts and prayers are with all of you and especially for those that I have not been able to contact. I pray you are all safe!
If you are able to give, if only a little, then take a moment and please donate here or here.
Touring the world and being exposed to various cultures has significantly impacted the way I approach new and unfamiliar situations. As I reflect on my experiences adapting to different cultural norms and local environments around the world, I can’t help but think about the difficulty many people have in embracing differences in the world of classical dance. Some people only feel comfortable in their own backyard, insisting on a rigid adherence to traditional aesthetics and methods. It's a pity that some people have neither the will nor desire to engage in the kind of rich exploration that I was fortunate enough to undertake during my travels.
My visits to North Korea, Japan and even parts of Europe had some unique challenges. Simply things like being able to identify local foods or engage in friendly conversation due to language barriers were cause for frustration and discomfort at times. I encountered lifestyles, languages, cuisine, and traditions that were completely foreign to me. However, being surrounded by the unfamiliar was an opportunity to challenge my ability to adapt to my environment, and through this process, learn appreciation. My two years in Lausanne Switzerland is a perfect example. In Lausanne I had to change everything from the way I prepared food to the products I used in my hair. But instead of fighting my surroundings, I choose to embrace these differences and absorb the culture. It was only then that I began to truly feel comfortable. I eventually had a wonderful experience not only in Switzerland - which genuinely became home, but everywhere I traveled. As the idiom, 'when in Rome, do as the Romans' suggests, I mingled with the local people and took the time to learn their culture and customs and I am so grateful I did.
Unfortunately, not all of us are so open to change. For many, change is a scary word. We should think about the psychological implications of change when we discuss the challenges of diversity, mulit-culturalism and change in the world of classical dance. As a dancer I have asked myself," how can I make others accept me as a ballet dancer if the image I represent is so very different from what most are accustom to?" I can say with great confidence that most people who have seen me perform appreciated both my talent and uniqueness. However, there has always been a stubborn minority in the classical world that is resistant to change. I wonder if these individuals feel that changing the image will change the art? This perception is sad and couldn’t be further from the truth.
In my experience, change doesn't need to be feared. Having not only experienced and embraced change on so many occasions, I feel not only enriched but empowered to take on new and different experiences with an open mind, and without fear. We cannot force people to accept change. We can only continue to pour our unique selves into our passions as often as we can, and without reservation. I can only hope that through increased exposure to beautiful new images and ideas, the classical arts will reflect the diversity and richness of the world I have been so blessed to travel.
" Yes you will find that one Black male teacher but how many females do you know? Not many." This sentiment was expressed by Ballerina Andrea Long-Naidu, former member of the New York City Ballet and former principal dancer of the Dance Theatre of Harlem. Regardless of Ms. Long-Naidu's credentials and extensive resume, she still was left frustrated by her pursuit of a position as a Ballet Instructor. As she stood by watching others receive these positions with far fewer qualifications, it left her wondering whether the color of her skin factored into the equation. Prior to reading Ms. Long- Naidu's comment, I never gave much thought to the fact that I never had an African-American Ballet Instructor during my training.
The lack of African American Instructors is an apparent reality, which is rarely discussed. My desire to present this topic here is to initiate dialogue in hopes of finding a solution, or at the very least, try to uncover the root causes of this problem. The following is a portion of my interview with Andrea Long-Naidu regarding this topic:
Question: You recently brought up a discussion regarding the challenges you are finding while trying to pursue a teaching position as a black dancer. Why do you feel the color of your skin was the issue, and not that the pursuit of a teaching career in bigger institutions is just as challenging for anyone? As an accomplished dancer what does that say to you?
Response: Due to the economy teacher jobs are hard to come by so we are all struggling no matter what color you are. With this being said I find it is easier for non-Black teachers to get employed. First of all most major schools are not overflowing with students of color so most students of these schools have not be exposed to other teachers. For example I taught at a predominately white school but due to my approach and being a woman of color I appeared to be unsettling for the students. Yes I am a demanding teacher and believe in physically correcting a student as I was as a young student but this made students extremely uncomfortable. I feel due to the limited amount of dancers in major companies that are dancing on stage, the playing field for teachers of color is limited. Yes you will find that one Black male teacher but how many females do u know? Not many.
Question: Did you have many teachers of color? If not when was your first experience with one and what difference did that make for you as a dancer?
Response: The first time I experienced a teacher of color was at Dance Theatre of Harlem. It was a whole new world that exposed me to so much more. First of all I have found people who looked like me and I could feel good about me for they were always pushing me to be better and telling me that I had talent. Don't get me wrong I was blessed to have wonderful teachers of different races but to look at a beautiful Black woman telling me I could be a ballerina was just so inspiring for me. Someone who knew what I was going to face but still believed in me was the force that kept me going.
Question: What needs to happen for things to turn around? What can we do, if anything?
Response: What needs to be done? That is a hard question to answer for some many things need to happen.Parents need to expose them to different people and not keep them in a plastic bubble for this is not the realities of the world. More dancers of color need to be seen and accepted in the major schools. The Ballet world has to let go of old perceptions and step into the new world. This is America and we need to demand the dance world to start seeing this. We must start to contribute money, talent and expertise to uplift dancers of color. Put our interest into institutions that are about diversity.
I now wonder if the presence of an African American instructor would have improved my self image and sense of confidence, particularly in the earlier years. Though I cannot answer with any certainty, I do know that the short time Andrea and I were together at the New York City Ballet gave me a tremendous sense of strength and security. I felt a sense of camaraderie and kinship that comes from shared experience.
I am grateful to Andrea, not only for her participation in this week's post but also for her encouragement and support during our time together in New York City Ballet.
City Ballet of Los Angeles Director, Robyn Gardenhire
"As a teacher I have found that my job is to give what I know to all student, but what I have found my biggest challenge is in the black dance schools which is why I have my own now. I had to make sure parents and studio owners don't push the race card when their child does not get into a school or a job I think that once that child gets it into his or her head it becomes a go to thing and I tell them when I see what the weakness may be to work harder on that and to see more directors you will find a home. As a ballet dancer the line the grace, elegance the body must fit no matter what race you are we must meet the standards and we do quit often. And when we meet all of that and you don't get the job or the school we then see its a color thing, and we must keep going because as you know someone will love you for who you are and what you bring to the world of dance."
I am aware that all students have their own personal battles to overcome, and a teacher who understands their individual story and needs would benefit each and everyone of them tremendously. However, with the scarcity of African Americans in ballet, the rarity of images on display of African American ballerinas and the seemingly small ratio of African American teachers, it's no wonder that these students may feel defeated before they ever truly begin. An environment that neither celebrates nor acknowledges a person's individuality can often be disheartening.
Artful Inspirations
I wanted to post this just for the love of it. For me it's an image of raw passion and talent waiting and willing to be nurtured. It's a reminder of innocence and abandonment which we all possessed as we entered this world of dance.
Does dance speak to everyone? Can it bridge socioeconomic, gender and cultural divides? I pondered this question as I watched videos featuring different forms of dance this past week. Though very different from the classical style that occupied so much of my career, I still felt a kinship with the dancers—a oneness with the movement.
On the news the other day, a group of dancers from Oakland, CA were featured. The group was impressionable, not only for their talent but for their message. The commentary described dance as an "international language." However, clichèd as the description may be, this time it resonated quite differently with me. It caused me to reflect deeper on the power and potential of dance. With this realization, I wondered if we as dancers are maximizing its potential. I'm not so sure.
A former Alvin Ailey member posted this Brazilian dancers emotional interpretation of The Dying Swan on Facebook. Although, utterly different from any interpretation most of us were accustomed to, its impact was no less powerful, and prompted dozens to share their thoughts and feelings.
This is an example of how one voice can open minds, change perspectives and unleash worlds of posssibility. In the same way, dancing as a form of expression can be used as a vehicle to wash away institutions of thought that keep people divided and our humanity deprived of its colorful beauty. I am noticing this trend more and more with Urban styles of dance, I wonder if ballet could create this type of impact?
If dance truly is a universal language, what would you want your art to say?
