Principal dancer, New York City Ballet
(1981– )
When I was twelve, my uncle Danny showed me tapes of ballet dancers and asked if I’d like to do ballet. When I watched the tapes I saw them handling the women and I was like, Huh? You get to touch them there? It was quite a shocker. My uncle took me on the subway to the American Ballet School for an audition. They literally put me at the barre, lifted up my leg, played some music, told me to step in time to the music, and they accepted me. When I got in, I was extremely surprised because I had never done a ballet step before that audition. In class, I found out that it wasn’t easy. I really struggled, but that struggle fueled my love for dance because I took it on as a challenge.
After starting ballet, I felt different than the other boys on my block and so I actually kept it a secret for a while. When I’d come home and play baseball outside with the kids they’d ask, “Where’ve you been for the past four hours?” “I’ve been in Manhattan doing this and that.” When I finally told them I was doin’ ballet, oh what I got from those guys. They were like, “What? You’re wearin’ tutus and all that stuff?” “You don’t understand. It’s the opposite. I get to dance with these women and hold them and touch them and lift them.” When I danced in an eighth-grade talent show then they were like, Wow. The immediate respect I got was incredible.
Before my lessons, I was just a Bronx kid having a great time enjoying my childhood, an ordinary kid going to P.S. 67, playing on the baseball team and having block parties with everybody. In school, I loved science and was also the citywide champion of the storytelling contest.
I first competed in those contests when I was in fifth grade. I had to memorize a story of not more than three hundred words from any children’s book or story that had a message. I won the boroughwide the first year, lost the citywide, but wound up winning the all-citywide in my third year, which was seventh grade. I won with Why the Sky Is Far Away. It was a good story with a great message about not being wasteful. That was the beginning of performing for me, to have an audience intrigued with a story by how you communicate. I had no idea it would be so important in my current life.
In our neighborhood there was a definite ethnic mix. There were a lot of Puerto Ricans, a lot of Spanish influences, and a lot of Jamaicans. My mother is Puerto Rican and my father is Indian from Tobago. Our neighborhood was multicultural. The minorities were the majority and I got along with everyone. I always felt at home because I had an even bigger family. My nickname was Kool-Aid, because I was always smiling. I had the Kool-Aid smile, like in the ads. Hey, Kool-Aid.
My parents divorced when I was around twelve or thirteen. My mother was supportive of whatever I wanted to do but my father, on the other hand … It was quite difficult for him to accept my choices, because he was a marine, and he himself was brought up in a strict way. I think the crucial issue was that when I applied for high school, my ballet was just starting its fire. I was accepted into Bronx High School of Science and also LaGuardia School for Performing Arts. When I chose LaGuardia, it was a big blow to my father. What are you doing? He didn’t realize what I could achieve with ballet and he didn’t realize how important the arts were either. He backed himself out of my life for a while. There were years when I didn’t speak to him, not even on holidays. I basically created my own life without him for several years, working hard on my own without his influence.
While I was dancing as a principal in the New York City Ballet, my father and I got together again and now we can talk as gentlemen. He explained that he was so brokenhearted with the decision about ballet and school that I made, but realized that his actions didn’t help in any way.
My mom is so fantastic. Without having any knowledge of the arts at all she just allowed me to follow my path. When I got into the ballet, I called my mother and said, “Mom, I got my contract for the New York City Ballet corps.” She said, “Baby, that’s fantastic. What does that mean?” She had no idea what it all meant.
There are so few people of color dancing. The roles I’ve danced, I would never have guessed that I would ever have danced. It may be because I’ve taken my race out of it. I approached it as an artist, totally believing that a boy from the Bronx could play a prince in the Nutcracker—could do the Cavalier and be a classical ballet dancer. That’s what I focused on. My background was a plus when I played Bernardo in West Side Story with the mambo and salsa, because that’s what I grew up with. Okay! It was like being in the living room with my momma. I also did Fancy Free by Jerome Robbins. It takes place in 1945 in New York City but who would’ve seen an Indian sailor walking down the street at that time? The New York City Ballet allowed that to happen. You have the style and the character, and you portray him the way you see, from the inside.
I guess I had a lot of confidence growing up. I had great teachers. Great family. I had support. The world was my oyster. I didn’t realize that, but I lived it. I felt like I could do anything. Anything and everything.
When I was at the School of American Ballet, though, from the ages of twelve to nineteen, I had a lot of growing up to do. You’re given a lot of responsibility on the one hand, but you’re given a lot of freedom on the other. They treat you as an adult. So I broke rules by going out and drinking and being with a lot of ladies. Living a free young college life at the age of sixteen. But I learned that if you play hard, you have to work hard. I got married two years ago and I’ve settled down now.
It makes me feel great to have these memories. Manhattan wasn’t home until recently, when I moved there. It was always associated with work and studying, but the Bronx is different. It was, and I think always will be, home, comfort, love.