by Luis Edwardo Gonzalez
I wanted to write about something I learned through an experience that I think most dancers – as well as others who have dedicated themselves to something for so long that they begin to mistake it for the fabric of their identity – can relate to. To me the experience has really been a lesson in telling the truth. One of my favorite writers Elizabeth Gilbert has a lot of great lessons to share about telling the truth, and how difficult that can sometimes be, but one of my favorite quotes I’ve read from her is, “you should do your best to have a completely honest relationship with at least one person in your life, and it’s probably best if that person is you”. People always talk about how you are what you do and maybe to a certain extent that’s true, but I also feel that there is something to be said about not needing to be or do a thing in order to have value. Also not evaluating one’s self-worth according to how well you are calibrating your life choices to what people expect from you. If you follow my writing at all or know me, you know that I’ve been dancing at Joffrey Ballet for the last four years. You may also know that through a series of difficult twists of life I began to fall out of love with my career. I don’t think I ever lost passion for the art form, but the life of a dancer in a company somehow lost its provision of purpose for me.
I have for some time understood that emotions are often situational and therefore, temporary. I also was aware that the questions that plagued my day to day may have just come with the territory of being twenty-five. Although the cliché of a quarter life crisis is not a notion I loved, I also had to come to terms with the fact that trying to ignore it would only make things worse. I had dealt with debilitating medical health complications, the death of a loved one, an uncomfortable dynamic at work, and a rocky romantic relationship. Each time I did everything I could to move past it and not feel.
Once I actually allowed myself to feel the effects of everything I came to a realization. I decided that even if I look back on this moment ten years from now and roll my eyes at the gravity of the moment, or if I change my mind a month from now and realize I’ve made a mistake – then this is a mistake I have to make. There is no way to know what the road ahead of has in store, and at times it’s hard to know what I want it to be, but I do know that standing still without purpose on roads I’ve already taken will slowly chip away at my spirit until any light that is left withers away like a plant without water.
At the end of last season, I chose to take a break from ballet.
I had been to Europe on tour the summer before all of this happened, and I knew that I just needed a break from my life; a moment to be completely alone. I decided to get a plane ticket and not tell anyone where I was going. I visited Poland, Switzerland, and France, and kept a journal along the way. I think I needed to write because it was really one of the most vulnerable moments I’ve ever had. I can honestly say that while I was away I could be completely present and submerged in the both exciting and terrifying feeling of not knowing. I felt selfish, because it was first time in a while that I gave myself permission to ask if I was happy, and if the decisions that dictate the trajectory of my life were based on what I wanted, what I thought I should want, what others want for me, or what feels safe to do. Contrary to what I had expected, almost every moment on my trip to find answers was full of stress and discomfort. I never expected I would be in all of the romance and splendor that Europe has to offer and in some moments be anxiously awaiting the day I got home.
I’ll start by saying I highly recommend traveling alone to anyone. There are obviously safety considerations to be taken, but all in all pushing yourself drastically out of a place of stagnant comfort is one of the most enlightening and fulfilling things. Like most things that are worthwhile, traveling alone did not come without its fair share of difficult moments. There were language barriers and many locals who were rather indifferent to foreigners. When I arrived in Poland, my Airbnb host was nowhere to be found, and it rained much of the time I was there. In Switzerland my bag was stolen out of the locker where I left it to walk around Zurich. I missed my flight in Paris due to a truck blowing up on the highway on my way to the airport. These are just a few of the difficulties I pushed through during the trip, but in every city I went to I also pushed myself to take class. As I was boarding my flight back to the U.S I realized that aside from the stunning architecture, amazing food, and occasional pleasant surprises with the locals, the happiest I was while I was in Europe was while I was dancing.
Honestly before the season began with Joffrey, I had already decided it would be my last. I think the main reason I decided to come back was that I had not yet come to terms with the fact that I didn’t owe it to anyone else to be there. A long time ago, I, like so many young ballet students fell in love with the idea of success – an idea that is sold to us by media as: making a big paycheck, dancing for a big company, and living in a big city. Since I had achieved those things, I felt I had no right to complain or to allow myself question why I wasn’t happy once I had them.
In different schools I’ve taught at I am sometimes asked to share my experience with students in a sort of question and answer format. Some of the questions I remember getting were things like; if I get a contract to somewhere like ABT but also a smaller company, which is better to chose? Or how do you know when is the right time to leave a company, or is it better to stay somewhere for a long time? I felt a bit of nostalgia I think, but also a realization that my perspective of things that once seemed so black or white had changed. I now saw the millions of other colors; millions of other variables in life that can completely change a sequence of events, a decision, or a situation.
I’m not from what one would call an artistic family, so it was kind of a hard sell for my Colombian parents (mother; Data Warehousing Engineer, Father; Architect) that I wanted to be a ballet dancer. I had to prove to them with my work and persistence that this wasn’t just a passing fad that I would eventually leave for the next hobby. For me, I think a part of staying at Joffrey was proof of my keeping of the promise I made to them, and myself, that I would one day be able to thrive with this dream that I had pushed them to spend their time and money on. I had to leave because I came to terms with the fact that I tried tirelessly to fit into the puzzle of a place that I knew hadn’t felt right for some time, and I could feel my enthusiasm for my work slowly fading.
It took me some time to be able to reflect on the fact that so many wonderful things also took place while I was in Chicago because at the time of my leaving things felt somewhat bleak. The four years I spent with Joffrey taught me so much and gave me a lot to feel thankful for; The people that I’ve worked with and for, the experiences I’ve shared with them, as well as the ways they have pushed me in one way or another. I have found that there is more agency over the trajectory of life than is superficially understood, and it’s all in listening to your heart and acting accordingly to both that and the present circumstances.
No one can tell you what the “right” choice is because everyone’s version of that will vary. In the end it’s only your choice that matters and you are the only one that can make it. The love and support I felt on stage when I took my last bow, as well as throughout the years I was there, honestly left me with only gratitude; for the opportunities that life has given me to grow but also the wonderful moments I’ve been given to enjoy and those I’ve been lucky enough to enjoy them with.
Partly by my own nature but also because I was raised to be, I am a people pleaser. Always be agreeable, never be a burden, don’t rub people the wrong way, don’t talk differently or too much, don’t walk differently, have good posture, be assertive but never bossy, always air on the side of reserved –but mostly do your best to always be well liked. As a result, I’ve spent a lot if my life making decisions, calculating actions and curating my life according to what I thought other people would want to see. This makes developing artistic integrity difficult. It’s hard to keep a sense of direction in life when the course is changed by what one anticipates someone else might find agreeable, and then changing it depending on who one is surrounded by. It’s almost like not being sure of where you want to go because you’re not really sure of why you’ve chosen to go where you’ve already been so in a moment of being unhappy with a present situation one just settles into unhappiness and gets comfortable sinking further into it until someone new comes along and says where to go next.
When I got back from Europe, I had a missed call and a supportive message from the man who gave me my first professional contract, Robert Hill. Almost as soon he had heard about my plans to leave Joffrey, he reached out to offer guidance and encouragement. We were in contact for some time going back and forth about what I wanted to do, but in the end, he pushed me to give dance another shot. He spoke of his tireless efforts to foster an environment in his company with a focus on the general health of the Organization and offered that it could be an ideal place to help me get back in touch with my passion for the art form.
In the meantime, I spent time with my family, and took class with my mentor Maniya Barredo who gave me the gift of ballet. It took me a few weeks to come to a conclusion, but Robert was patient and understanding of my need to have a moment to breathe. As I mentioned he gave me my first job many years ago, and I know he believes in passion for the art form as well as nurturing efficacy in his dancers. I’ve only been back to dancing for two weeks at this point, but the first choreographer we worked with was Jessica Lang who is setting her ballet Lyric Pieces. I had never worked with her in the past, but I resonated with her approach to working right away. During one of the rehearsals last week she said, “I believe in making the work the star, not you, not me not the company but the art”. She already had me at hello, but it’s so rare to work with someone who has a big name and still can keep that level of humility and respect for the art form. It was just the thing I needed at that moment. (? What do you think?)
I know that what happened to me was not was not some great injustice or a terrible tragedy, and that the issues I faced have happened to many others – as well as much worse. The thing that I’ve learned about pain though is that it’s all relative. Unhappiness, no matter what the cause, is difficult to overcome, and when a situation doesn’t feel right, ignoring that instinct and continuing to push for a lie corrodes at one’s resolve. I no longer feel a responsibility for knowing how I’m going to feel in the future, or even who or what I’m going to be. I know who I am now, and that is someone on a journey to live a life that fights for telling the truth even when it gets hard. I dance, love, write, sing, travel and make art because on the days that I want to because I love it, but I do my best to remind myself that I am not defined or validated by it. At some point I started to realize that it is not my responsibility to worry about what other people’s perception of me is, and holding myself responsible for other people’s thoughts is a burden that is really my choice to carry. It felt crazy and rebellious at the time but it has made a huge difference in my overall wellbeing to know that it’s O.K. to make mistakes and love things and people, make decisions that you change your mind about, and just generally live without fear and not be ruined by it.
I’ve done the reckless, selfish thing of changing my life on a whim that was honest, and I’m still here. And, as we all learn in dance, the finishing of one step – is the beginning of the next.
BIO: Luis Eduardo Gonzalez is originally from Bogota, Colombia, where he grew up before moving to Atlanta, Georgia. From a very young age, his training came primarily from the continued direction of Ms. Maniya Barredo, former prima ballerina of Atlanta Ballet and current director of Metropolitan Ballet Theatre. Mr. Gonzalez has received the Star Student award at Regional Dance America’s SERBA, took third place at the Regional Youth American Grand Prix competition in 2008, first place pas de deux at the American Ballet Competition in 2013, and was selected to compete as the only representative of Colombia in the 2014 Jackson International Ballet Competition.
Mr. Gonzalez began his professional career at sixteen with The Houston Ballet II, where he had the opportunity to dance works by Stanton Welch, Balanchine, Claudio Munos, Ben Stevenson among other renowned choreographers, as well as tour both nationally and internationally. At 18, he joined Orlando Ballet where he danced for three years, performing and originating works by director Robert Hill such as peter and the wolf, Ravel’s Bolero, Carmina Burana, Swan Lake and many others. In 2015 Mr. Gonzalez Joined the Joffrey Ballet of Chicago where he preformed and originated roles on stages all over the world. Some of the works in his repertoire include; Orphe and Euridice, Sylvia by John Neumeier, Mammatus by Anabelle Lopez Ochoa, Nutcracker and Swan lake by Christopher Wheeldon, Raku, Miraculous Mandarin, Anna Karenina by Yuri Possokhov, Glass Pieces by Jerome Robins, Body of your Dreams by Miles Thacher and many others. In 2019 Gonzalez retuned to Orlando Ballet and has since danced works by Victoria Morgan, Robert Hill, and Jessica Lang.
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