Life in Motion: An Unlikely Ballerina

Misty reflects on the criticism she faces. Dancers like Paloma Herrera avoid reading reviews or comments. Misty, however, does not. She is aware of the criticism written about her, such as those who feel her performances with Prince demean ballet. Other critics accuse her of “play[ing] the race card” (235). However, Misty asserts that she chooses how to define herself, adding that she is a Black woman, which is not a “card to play or a label [she] begrudgingly accept[s]” but an integral part of who she is and how she interacts with the world (236). She therefore must learn to “block out the criticism, to remember all the little brown girls who are counting on” her (237).

In 2011, Misty receives a major opportunity. Kevin tells her that she will be learning the iconic role of the Firebird. This does not necessarily mean that she has the part. Traditionally, several dancers learn the same part and are only told a few weeks before the performance who will receive the starring role and who will be an understudy. While training for the role, she also collaborates in a workshop with the Dance Theatre of Harlem. 

While practicing with the Harlem company one day, she sees an announcement on Twitter that she has been chosen, becoming the first Black woman in history to play the Firebird for a major ballet company. She begins to cry, and her friends cry with her. Though her colleagues at ABT will also congratulate her, she knows that “their reaction would not have been like what [she] received that day among the company members of the Dance Theatre of Harlem” (241). Though she is not a member of their company, they are connected by their shared identity as Black dancers in a field that is not always accepting of them. They understand more than any others the struggles that Misty has come through to make it to this moment.

As Misty moves closer to the premiere, she suffers from debilitating pain in her left shin. She fights through the pain because she refuses to relinquish this prominent role. She reminds herself that she is doing it “for the little brown girls” (245). On the day of the premiere, she sees an advertising banner outside the Metropolitan Opera featuring her face, “head thrown back in joy, and [her] body exuding power and femininity” (246). She cries, having never seen a Black woman hanging from the Met before.

Returning to the events of the Prologue, Misty steps out and performs the Firebird on opening night. She recalls all the people who helped her succeed and blocks out the pain to give a brilliant performance. Afterward, her mentors and the press shower her with praise. Five days later, on June 22, 2012, Misty pulls out of the performance season due to severe stress fractures in her tibia. She is only able to perform the Firebird once. Devastated and depressed, Misty feels as if everything she has worked for is now gone.

Misty undergoes surgery in October 2012. She then spends months rehabilitating and retraining her body. Seven months after her surgery, she returns to the stage, performing in Don Quixote. Though her performance is not perfect, and she still suffers pain, it is an essential step in her recovery process. The most difficult part of her recovery process is its public nature, as people watch her closely and talk about her in the news and on social media. Some even criticize her “extracurricular endeavors,” such as helping facilitate ABT’s Project Plie, a partnership between the ABT and the Boys and Girls Clubs of America.

However, she continues to strive and learn. She still worries about what others think of her, and she fears failing all the people who helped her. However, she also knows that whether she succeeds or not, her opportunities have given her a voice that she can use to help others, and she intends to use it.

Following the writing and initial publication of Life in Motion, Misty is promoted to principal in June 2015, becoming the first African American woman to be a principal dancer in the history of ABT. In the Afterword, she reflects on a common question people ask her: “So, what’s next?” They are hoping for the glamor of modern celebrity, such as television appearances, but she usually answers with “rehearsal,” a lighthearted but honest nod to the reality of ballet.

Moreover, she adds that though she wanted this role, she did not merely want to make history for herself. She hopes that this promotion will break new ground for the young dancers of color who come after her. Her message, she says, is that “if there is space for a quiet little brown girl from San Pedro in ballet, there is room for you, too” (267).