How To Be A Black Choreographer And Not Die

How To Be A Black Choreographer And Not Die

Do you know when you are unwell? Not unwell like a cold, but Missing sense of self. Not sure and not used to not being sure. If there is a you that you know, that you are intimately acquainted with, not-well-you is a pale or blurry or refracted reflection.

On December 3, 2019, SLMDances, the dance-theater collective I founded and currently direct, presented a work-in-progress showing at Lincoln Center Education in New York City where we are Community Artists in Residence. On December 4, my body promptly gave out. It was like she had held on until the last event of the year and as soon as it was completed, exhaustion, coughing and congestion set in. 

I was laid out — too sick to complete necessary SLMDances administrative work or attend my dress rehearsal for The Brooklyn Nutcracker. This time, it was a stomach bug of some kind. I couldn’t keep anything in or down. I just made it through our weekend matinee performances before registering that 15 minutes prior to Saturday night’s curtain, I had a fever. I took some meds and prayed it would break before Act II. It did. I performed our three minute high-intensity Marzipan divertissement at medium intensity (which felt like I was going to die) and when it was all over went straight home and got in the bed. I was down for the count. That week, I had every intention of wrapping up my work for the year, but every time I sat down at the computer to attempt a task, I would burst into tears, cuss or scream. 

It hit me: I was burnt out.

Sydnie L. Mosley and A. Nia Austin-Edwards teaching a photo of SLMDances workshop at Spelman College in February 2020 (Shoccara Marcus/ShocPhoto)

I called for backup. SLMDances Creative Partner Jessica Lee came to my house and spent 24 hours with me, serving as both accountability partner to get most essential tasks done (getting dancers the last paycheck of the year) and helpmate in splitting some of the work. But not before I cried snottily on her shoulder, only able to articulate three words: I’m not well. Not just because of

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MOSAEC
Author: MOSAEC