My dance journey began when I told my teacher I wanted to quit. I’d been dancing since I was ten—starting with K-pop choreographies and LA-style rehearsals—but always felt disconnected. The community I craved didn’t exist for someone like me. I found myself in spaces removed from what it meant to be a Black girl in the dance community. I felt that no one in the dance world looked like me. The women I admired were thin, light-skinned, and wealthy. I am tall, dark-skinned, bigger than most, and living in a city where I rarely see dancers who reflect me. I believed the industry wasn’t built for girls like me—that being a choreographer wasn’t possible. Everything changed on a field trip to a tap show led by a Black woman who was a powerful force. I wasn’t a tap dancer, but seeing her on that stage—unapologetically Black, confident, and successful—shifted something in me. I haven’t missed a rehearsal since.