Reclamation

Definition: The process of claiming something back or of reasserting a right. Source: Google Oxford Languages Dictionary

Amid everything happening around our globe, my hope for everyone in 2024 is that beauty, joy, and love are abundant, absent the chance that they will be taken away in an instant. With so much pain surrounding us, it is sometimes hard to see this as a real possibility. Here, however, I lean on the words of Nelson Mandela and remind myself that "it always seems impossible until it's done."

I believe I am a living testament to possibility. I am a Black Puerto Rican woman with a PhD who grew up in the Bronx, NY – the most disinvested urban county in the United States where stories like mine are outliers by design. While I represent what is possible when real, concrete opportunities and supports are provided, our systems are designed to oppress certain groups and privilege others; systems I have spent my career trying to dismantle.

Long before I decided to focus on dismantling systemic oppression, my dream was to perform on Broadway. As a kid, I was absolutely enamored with music in general and movie musicals, in particular. I came of age when Fame - the movie and the television series - made concrete for me what it looked like to train to become a professional performer. With my dream front and center, I joined my elementary and junior high school choruses and enjoyed my share of the spotlight. When the time came, I mustered up the courage to audition and was elated when I was accepted into THE Fame high school in New York City - Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School of Music & Art and Performing Arts.

Like most things, there are parts of my high school experience that exceeded my expectations and others that totally missed the mark. Exceeded expectations: the immense amount of talent that surrounded me across all the arts studios at the school: art, dance, drama, instrumental music, and vocal music (my studio). Being surrounded by and connected to others who shared a passion for the arts was inspiring. Missed the mark: we did not spend our entire days dancing and singing in the hallways and lunchroom and taking classes across artistic disciplines, like I was led to believe in Fame. While we got to spend half of our day immersed in our respective arts studio, we also had to take our required academic classes, unlike the fantasy that I had conjured up totally on my own that academics would cease to have any relevance anymore.

As per my studio, I found myself in a classical music conservatory program that, outside of a handful of electives, was designed to prepare us to perform on the stage of The Metropolitan Opera and not Broadway, as I had dreamed. I had also become a little fish in a big pond, which was something that my fragile ego could not handle. My passion had now become work and I was subjected to scrutiny and criticism within a framework of success that was not my own. Although I resisted initially, I eventually internalized the message that only the best of the best could pursue a career as a performer and since I was not the best, I should not even bother trying.

So, with my ego bruised, I shelved my dream and proceeded to double-down on my Plan B, which took me to college and onto a career in public health. While in college, I performed occasionally, mostly as part of the school’s Gospel Choir. After college, however, I essentially closed the door to performing; a door that I would not really entertain reopening until a couple of decades later. In 2014, I gave a brown bag talk at work and mentioned my earlier dream of performing when a colleague mentioned her artistic endeavors in the world of cabaret. Aside from the musical and movie namesake, I had no clue what cabaret really was, but she piqued my interest and I followed-up with her to learn more. What resonated with me most about what she described was cabaret's emphasis on storytelling via song and what seemed to be a community-wide appreciation of the unique talents that each individual brings to the stage.

After we spoke, I came to realize that I had used my professional pursuits as an excuse for staying off the stage. While I am extremely proud of my career and what I have accomplished, the truth is that I never really forgot about my original dream. It has always lingered in the background, reminding me now and again that I had totally closed off a part of me. It was hard, though, to imagine a path back to the stage as my insecurities around singing were so deep that I even avoided singing in front of my husband – MY HUSBAND!

This was unquestionably a crossroads moment and I finally decided that I did not want to continue to neglect a core part of who I am. So, in 2015, I made my way back to the stage after 20 years. I must admit that I had no plans to invite anyone to that performance, including my husband. I told myself that the cabaret workshop was for me and only me. That it was a win that I didn’t quit after the first session. After gentle and consistent coaxing by my instructors, however, I worked up the courage to send out invites, including one to my husband. lol

Performing on stage is unlike anything I have ever experienced. I find myself present, open, and vulnerable in a way that amplifies my connection to others and my surroundings. My return to the stage was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. The act of performing has always been exhilarating – that’s never been the issue. Audiences are usually generous and supportive, and with an audience that included my chosen family, I felt the love. It’s the part that came after that reminded me of why I stayed away from the stage for so long. The part that happened between my two ears – my post-performance analysis and critique that I had become conditioned to engage in, which drowned out my authentic voice.

While I was happy to bring performing back into my life and continued to do so after my return, I absolutely hated the insecurity hangover I experienced after each performance. I generally chalked it up as something that comes with performing since it was reminiscent of my experience back in high school. I took a hiatus from the stage when my husband and I moved to DC in 2019. Not necessarily by choice but because of the pandemic. During my break, I didn’t miss the post-performance drama, but I very much missed the creative process of selecting and working on material for a show, and yes, I also missed performing.

Once we moved back to NYC, I reconnected with my cabaret folks and this past December, I found my way back to the stage, five years after my last performance. This time around, the post-performance shenanigans were nowhere to be found. What was different this time? This was the first time I was on stage after engaging in intentional healing work related to other areas of my life, which had clearly rippled over. The voice that showed up in my head was a loving, kind, and supportive cheerleader and coach, which is what my voice used to be before I was conditioned otherwise.

Without a doubt, I know that I will always work to dismantle systemic oppression. More and more, though, I have come to realize how important it is for me to be whole as I do the work. In December, I reclaimed a core part of me and am grateful to start off this new year a little bit more whole.

Reflection Questions: As you think about the new year, what parts of you do you want to reclaim? What would it take for you to reclaim them?