Ella es una Bailarina (She is a Dancer)
I am Dominican American and that is what I connect with when someone asks me “what’s your nationality”. As a matter of fact I don’t even pay mind to the American part and usually say “Im Dominican”. I remember when I first started being proud of my nationality. Back in 2010 I visited the Dominican Republic for the first time in what had been 6 years. A lot had changed but my family didn’t, yeah there were more members in it but the love and happiness given did not by all means change. It made me realize what a wonderful culture it is to be a part of and I was suddenly proud of saying “Soy Dominicana hasta la tambora”. Although I love my culture, being hispanic, being a first generation Dominican American isn’t easy.
Many hispanic parents because they come from a developing country, decide to come to the United States for new opportunities and for there families to have a chance at a well deserved future. That’s at least why my parents decided to immigrate from the Dominican Republic here. Because of this life long dream of them wanting to see their daughters be successful I was unfortunately looked down upon for my dream of being a dancer. “You can’t make a living off of that”, “You’re going to struggle later in life”, “Why don’t you be a lawyer, you like arguing with us a lot” are some of the few things they would tell me on a daily basis, or at least, every time I would even mention that of becoming a professional dancer. They had this dream of me being a doctor, teacher, or lawyer, set in stone. Little did they believe that I would one day have a dream of my own and want the support of my parents. At the end of the day, I still continued to dance, they still paid for my classes. Yeah sometimes Id lie here and there telling them I was going to go study when in reality I was going to practice in the studio. Sometime the money my dad would give me weekly, I would just save up so I could rent a studio just to go practice. “Nichole donde estas?” my mom would ask, “Oh nada, estoy aqui en afterschool, no voy a salir hasta las 6pm” I would say.
I took them not believing in me, as a catalyst to push harder and strive for my goal of being a well known choreographer. I use all the anger and frustration from those hour long arguments with my parents. Storming into my room crying, not knowing what to do. I would ask myself “why am I here, why am i living if I can’t do what I love?”. Choked up, furious, hate, love, confusion were some of the emotions and things I went through in my room, by myself. The only thing that could take me away from all the hate I had, was dancing. I felt and still feel relieved when I dance. This sense of opening up and letting it all out. Being vulnerable and allowing my emotions to take control of every part of my body. Every muscle, Every movement tells a story, tells my story. My emotions, My Body, the two key phrases when it comes to dance. My parents played and still play a huge role in the dancer I am today. Starting from my nationality to the emotions I portray when I dance. I feel free from being confined of other people’s social norms of being a doctor, or a teacher, or a lawyer when I dance. Overall, I wouldn’t say I have one specific moment in my life that really impacted me as a dancer. Instead, i’m still going through the backlash of my family and using it to my advantage. Dancing not only makes me who I am but who I want to become.
