life-and-culture politics justice life-and-culture money music news transportation main

Oil Prices

DURANGO-POLICE

A blurry image of a stolen black Land Rover with a man leaning out of the passenger window and brandishing a gun.

As a child in front of the TV, at block parties, at school; Manuela Sanchez loved to dance. Then when she discovered she could pursue her passion as a career, her life changed. And even as&nbsp;her&nbsp;identity&nbsp;as an Afro Dominicana strengthened her love of dance, she struggled —&nbsp;as an arts&nbsp;pioneer in her family&nbsp;and in the largely white world of her profession.

core/paragraph

Host and producer: May Ortega Lead producer: Luis Antonio Perez Editors: Erin Jones, Andrew Villegas Mixing: Patrice Mondragon Additional producers: Rebekah Romberg, Jo Erickson, Ana Campbell Theme music by Pedro Lumbrano; additional music courtesy Universal Production Music Cover art: Mia Rincón Executive producers: Brad Turner, Kevin Dale Thanks also to Hart van Denburg, Jodi Gersh, Clara Shelton, Matt Herz, Kim Nguyen, Brittany Werges and CPR's Latino Audience Working Group.

<a href="http://quienarewe.org" data-type="URL" data-id="quienarewe.org">QuienAreWe.org</a>

Manuela Sanchez: When I was in third grade, that was my first year of attending the dance school that my mom put me in.

May Ortega: This is Manuela Sanchez.

Manuela: Prior to getting on stage, everything was kind of chaotic and a blur. And I remember like I was in my costume and I remember feeling like I don't know what was happening.

May: Manuela is recounting her first memory of dancing in a show.

Manuela: And then the next thing I knew, I was on the stage. The lights and the music is like blasting in your ears and like through your body. And the lights are kind of blinding you and all you see is like little figures of heads ‘cause you can't really see the people.

May: She can still remember her heart pounding in her nine year old chest, her legs and arms swinging to the beat of “Rockin’ Robin.” And you'd think Manuela felt terrified.

Manuela: But it was exhilarating. Like it was just, I remember being like, “Oh my God, I belong here.” [Laughter] Like I was nervous and I was scared, but I was also so excited. And it was one of those moments where I didn't really know what was happening until I found myself on the stage noticing everything and being like, yes, this is exactly what I wanna do.

May: But how could baby Manuela have known back then that her dream would mean an uphill battle that spanned decades?

From Colorado Public Radio, this is “¿Quién Are We?” exploring what it means to be Afro-Latina, Latinx, Boricua or however you identify and diving into the beautiful things that make us who we are.

I'm May Ortega. Today we'll speak to a woman who found her passion for dancing with some help from her heritage. But her family took some convincing. One of the longest and most meaningful relationships in Manuela's life is with dancing. She got into it very early on.

Manuela: I've been dancing since I was little. My mom likes to say I've been dancing since I was in her womb [laughter]. ‘Cause I was a baby that moved around. Kicked a lot. Yeah.

May: Once she was out in the world, she kept on moving and kicking and her mom noticed.

Manuela: They would catch me in front of the TV copying these artists. And kind of mimicking their dance move. I was usually copying whatever dance I saw on TV. She decided to look for a dance school ‘cause she saw how much I enjoyed it.

May: One of Manuela's earliest memories of dancing is from her first time in a dance studio when she was six. Her mom took her to a class so she could get a feel for it, see if she liked it.

Manuela: And I remember like, it was like a wooden floor and the walls were wooden too. Like it was, yeah, I just remember it like all this wood and trying it out. And I remember feeling so official, like, ooh, like I'm doing this thing that I see on TV. You know what I mean?

May: Yeah. It was love at first – step? Dance? Well. You get what I mean. The officialness of it all: dancing in an actual studio that was wrapped in mirrors and wooden flooring. She was infatuated. Unfortunately she didn't join the class. It was out of her mother's budget. Manuela's family of seven lived in a small three bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. Her mom worked multiple jobs. And raising five kids is not cheap. Putting one of them into dance classes was out of the question. As if she wasn't living in close enough quarters as it was, Manuela's home often had visitors. She's first generation Afro-Dominicana and she still had a lot of relatives in the Dominican Republic. Some of them wanted a life in the US as well.

Manuela: My apartment was always like a hotel for everyone who was coming to New York from Dominican Republic for the first time. So it was always a full house. I mean, I'm talking about, you know, the couch was always pulled out and made into a bed. I usually had cousins sleeping on the floor next to me in my room. There was a point, I remember like from the ages of maybe six to 10, we always had extra mattresses because people would always be coming over and would stay with us for a couple of weeks.

May: Manuela is the oldest of her family's five kids. So sharing was the name of the game. She didn't even have her own room for years. And on top of all that, she never really fit in with the rest of her family.

Manuela: It's funny ‘cause I kind of – like we all have this saying that I'm kind of the outcast in my family. And I think even as a young kid I was that because I was always very – I mean my mom has always said I was very independent. Kind of like self-sufficient. I was also always kind of like the responsible one. Just, you know, obviously being the eldest. I'm – not only was I the eldest of my siblings, but I was also the eldest of most of my cousins. So I would always be left babysitting. My mom would leave me in charge of like, “Hey, make sure you have dinner ready by the time I get home.” ‘Cause she was, many times she was working two jobs and would get home like six, seven o'clock. So when I got home from school, it was my job to, you know, pick up my brothers, make sure they did their homework, have dinner ready, all of that. So I became very independent and I think that also led me to become just very like in my world.

May: And that world was made up of music and movement. No matter how busy things got or how little space she had to herself, she never stopped dancing. It was carved into her bones. Dancing is a big deal in Latino cultures. I was brought up dancing to Los Tigres del Norte and Jenni Rivera. I remember my dad would have me stand on his feet when I was a kid and we'd start two stepping and going round and round. Manuela's life wasn't much different in that sense. Dancing was always a big part of her life growing up. Like when her neighborhood would have block parties, Manuela's mom would encourage her to dance – with her and with other people. But you know how it is when you're growing up, sometimes you don't want people to even look at you. So moments like those actually petrified her.

Manuela: And I remember I was with my parents and you know, they're with their other adult friends and this bachata song comes on and this guy who's like my dad's friend, you know, asks me to dance. ‘Cause it was like a thing like you always ask the younger girls to dance ‘cause you wanna get them used to just, you know, that culture. It was just part of our culture. And I said no.

Manuela: Because I was shy. I was shy. You know, I say all this, but I also had a very shy side. Like I did a lot of things behind closed doors, but out in front of people I like gave off a – like, I looked very shy to everyone.

May: But her mom wasn't having any of it. You wanted to dance, right, mija?

Manuela: My mom came over to me and pinched my arm so hard and she was like, “What do you mean you don't wanna dance?”

And I was like, “Mommy, no, I don't wanna dance.”

And she was like, “What do you mean?” She was like, “You know how bad you made me look just now.” And so she grabs me and she pulls me out to dance with her and I'm like trying to hide. And she's like, “Stop that. Come on. You know how to dance this.” It was like bachata. She's like, “You know how to dance bachata, come on, don't make me look bad.” She's like, “Stop looking down, stop looking all shy. Come on.” Like, you know, pushing me to dance.

May: Three years came and went since Manuela first stepped into a dance studio and one day her mom was able to put her daughter back into one – this time for keeps. She still remembers the moment when she knew she wanted to make dance her life. She was 12 years old and she was getting ready to move into her school's highest level of dance. It's called the school's company.

Manuela: My dance teacher sits us down ‘cause it's a group of us who are getting ready to transition. She's like, “You know, I just want you to take a moment to kind of just like, think about what you wanna do with all this. So really think like, what does dance mean to you? What do you wanna do with dance? Do you maybe wanna take this to a professional level?” And I was like, to a professional level, what does she mean? And she was like, “You know, who knows? Maybe you want to make a career out of dance.” And I remember at that point I was like, in my mind I'm like, you can have dance as a career? Wait, what? Like it was – you know that emoji where the brain is exploding out?

May: [Laughter] Yes. The mind-blown one.

Manuela: Yeah. Yeah. I feel like that was what happened in that moment.

May: Her mind was made up, and when Manuela wants something, she works her ass off for it. So teenage Manuela would limber up day in and day out, step into those studios, and press play. While her mom was her biggest fan, she was often the only familiar face in Manuela's audience. Thing is when someone chooses a career in art, like dancing, painting, graphic design, some people don't see it as an actual job, but more of a hobby. Well, some of Manuela’s relatives were in that camp.

Manuela: I'm the first generation born in this country. So for my grandmother, you know, and our little pueblo back in Dominican Republic, nobody ever thought about – I'm gonna go to a dance school and become a dancer. That wasn't even something you could even dream of. Let alone think of or consider.

May: As she got further into the world of dance, her extended family started to question if it was worth all the sacrifices her mother was making.

Manuela: It got expensive for my mom. There were times where my mom had to go as far as borrowing money to pay for sometimes my costumes or the competitions. ‘Cause you had to pay for everything: costumes, competitions, dance class, like the monthly dance classes, fee.

Manuela: All of that. You know, it just, it was a lot. And so sometimes my family will be like, that's it. Like, you know, you're making your mom like go through so much, just putting you through dance classes, et cetera.

May: And that was hard for Manuela. She was growing up exploring this passion and at the same time had some naysayers in her own home.

Manuela: At first it was like, oh, that's so cute. She's dancing. Oh, how nice. How pretty. You know what I mean? Yeah. And then the more I did it, it was like, I remember they were complaining.

May: Having a cloud of doubt hanging over you like that at a young age can be discouraging. But her mom was still rooting for her and she kept with it. Once she got to college, she pursued a degree in dance, naturally. And while she was studying, she was also working at a restaurant to make ends meet. And that just brought on more critics.

Manuela: You know, I remember my grandmother would lie about what I did ‘cause she would be embarrassed to tell people that I was…

Manuela: …coming home late from working at a restaurant. So she would lie and she'd be like, oh yeah, no, she, she had a, a big show.

May: And that bugged Manuela, but not enough to make her quit.

Manuela: When comments like that were made, then I would just say nothing. Like, I was just like, okay, well yeah, I don't get it, so I'm not gonna keep explaining myself.

May: That doesn't mean the comments stopped coming though. Once she got her degree, that's when the world of dance truly opened up to her in good ways and in bad. That's after the break.

Manuela Sanchez pursued her dream of dancing professionally all the way to college. And her family did not like it.

Manuela: Once I got outta college is when the real comments came out. They were like, so what is it that you graduated of? What, what did you go to school for? And I'd be like, y'all already know. Like, I was a dance major. Wait, so what's your profession?

Manuela: I'm a professional dancer. Like, what are you guys talking about? And they're like, okay, wait. So, when you gonna get a real job, like a – like you sit at a desk, like you get benefits. You get a monthly salary.

May: How did all that make you feel having to deal with all that for so long?

Manuela: You know, at first I think the first feeling that came up was frustration because already I was just putting in so much work. You know, as a dancer, training is so, so, so hard.

Manuela: Like it's literally blood, sweat and tears. Like you've got bloody feet, bloody toes. You are constantly sore and in pain. You know, you're always sweating [laughter].

May: It's a lot of movement. It’s a lot of…

Manuela: It's hard working. So like, it's just so hard. You know, you go through your own frustration of just being an artist and trying to make it to where you want to make it to. And then it would be just sadness ‘cause I just felt misunderstood and not supported. But then it kinda translated into something else as I got older and I'm not really sure what the word for it is, but it was just like, oh, you all really don't understand because this just wasn't even thinkable for many of you.

Being this pioneer didn't do her a lot of favors within her family. And once she got out of school, she quickly learned that her trailblazing put her at a disadvantage.

Manuela: Trying to figure out how I can balance the work-dance-life while I still audition. You know, finding a job that would still sustain me and not overwork me, but still make me money and all these things like that. That was hard. No one knew how to guide me through that or what to tell me, or, hey, you should do this. This would be the best to do on the side while you do your dance auditions.

May: Then maybe you'd think, hey, let me look to my peers for some help. Well, no. Other dancers were keeping their cards close to their chests.

Manuela: Hearing like, oh, you know, it helps to have an agent to get you into the auditions that you can't find about yourself. Like, I had to find that out through different dancers. And sometimes, you know, dancers don't wanna tell you that. I mean, the world has changed. I think it was, I think it was a meaner world. I mean, nowadays it's very, very supportive. But it wasn't always like that. You know, like dancers kept the information to themselves. ‘Cause if you tell too many people it gets harder.

Manuela: So, so that was really hard just having to navigate all that. I think it, it was hard and it kind of like delayed me a bit and made the process a little longer.

May: So she's kind of flying blind at this point and her family is discouraging her. Safe to say she was struggling to find her footing. But again, she knew what she wanted. And things weren't all bad. While her relatives didn't approve of her career path, they ultimately agreed to disagree.

Manuela: I had a responsibility to myself and also to my family who did support me through college. Even though they didn't really support what I was doing, they were still like, okay, she's going to college, we're gonna support her. And so I didn't want all of that to be for nothing. I was like, okay, I'm the first person to get a college degree. We went through, my mom went through all of that, putting me through dance school, borrowing money to get me through dance school. All of that can't be for nothing, you know? Like, I, I gotta make it.

May: There was no going back now. And if I hadn't made it clear, this was her passion. Dance was everything to Manuela. But another problem she had to deal with when she was growing up was racism. While dancing is significant in Latino cultures, professional dance in the United States is a very white space. And Manuela is an Afro-Latina with olive skin and coily hair. So in a lineup of dancers vying for a spot in a coveted company, sometimes she stands out. And at times that makes her feel like she's not competing against every dancer in an audition, but only against the other dancers of color.

Manuela: Sometimes like, you work so hard and you put so much work and you know that you're just as good as the person who got the job. And that can be so frustrating sometimes, you know. Or sometimes it's like, oh, there was already someone who looked like me and you know, in this audition and, you know, maybe they did something that they liked better than how I did. So that person got the job. But you know, there's only a room for one or two…

Manuela: …that look like this. Yeah, exactly. Like maybe just, let's have like, let's have our one brown girl, our one black girl, our one Asian girl. Like, you know? And maybe it's not one, maybe it's two or three, but like, it's…

May: It’s not most. It’s not the majority.

Manuela: It's not the… It can still be more. Exactly. It can still be more for sure.

May: It's tough being brown in the cutthroat, mostly-white world of dance. So Manuela tried to suppress what made her stand out.

Manuela: I have definitely done that thing where like I'll straighten my hair and pull it back, make it nice and tight. Like just kind of like hide my fro or – you know, kind of like, try to fit in into a certain box.

May: Expectations. Yeah. Yeah. But one day an opportunity to let her roots breathe came into Manuela's life. An Afro-Brazilian dance company in Miami was holding auditions. So she showed up, danced her heart out, and she landed a spot. She was very excited for several reasons.

Manuela: It was kind of like the best of both worlds. We got to do like modern dance and contemporary, which I love. But then we also did a lot of like Afro-Brazilian and Afro-Caribbean style of movement, which was also right up my alley.

May: For a big portion of her life up to this point, her relationship with dance wasn't easy. She faced doubt, discrimination, missed opportunities. But landing this job flipped the script from Manuela.

Manuela: Living in Miami and like being able to wake up every day to palm trees and knowing that the beach was only like 20 minutes away. Literally like where we rehearsed at was the African Heritage Cultural Arts Center. So it was like very, you know, it was very centered around the pride of, of the blackness of a community.

May: For five years, she spent her days embracing not only what she loved to do, but who she was. She didn't have to hide or change or try to fit in. She already did.

Manuela: During our lunch break, we'd be sitting outside like peeling mangoes and eating them fresh.

Manuela: And then I'd go inside to dance these Afro-Brazilian, Afro-Caribbean style movements that just were like so dear to my heart, you know? So it was just – I think that's when I most felt myself. Like, oh yes, like I'm me. Like I am accepted for how I look. You know, I can bring my Afro-Latinidad into my movement and into my artistry.

May: Gaining that acceptance externally strengthened her resolve internally. Manuela had talent and grit. She learned to find inspiration within herself. And while some people cast doubt upon her, other people recognized her skills.

Manuela: In South Florida, they have something called the National Water Dance Festival Festival. And so that's where different companies come together and participate in this festival. We were doing, you know, our group was doing our section, our dance. And it was, you know, still centered in that like Afro, diasporic kind of movement. And I remember feeling just like a goddess. Like the movement was just very liquidy and like, it was a lot of back and rib movement. And I remember afterwards the director of another company who, you know, we were friends with, came up to me and she was like, “I just – I mean, the way you move your spine and your hips, like I just can't get over … I couldn't take my eyes off of you. Like you were just … You, you took me somewhere ‘cause I could tell you were just in the zone.” And I was like, I really was [laughter]. I don't know. I was just in that moment. I transported somewhere and…

Manuela: I was just, you know, I was so flattered, but also like, wow. Yeah, I really did go somewhere [laughter].

May: That beautiful time in Miami was a few years ago. And moments like that are what Manuela keeps going back to, to remember why she's still doing this. She doesn't need anyone else's approval because she has her own. Yes. It's not always rainbows and flowers, but when it's good, it's great. And she hasn't stopped chasing her dream.

Manuela is back in Brooklyn. She's been going to auditions, instructing other dancers, and teaching pilates to make some extra cash. And her perseverance has paid off. She actually landed her first agent the day we had this conversation, and they like her for her.

Manuela: It felt really good to hear that they love my look. They think that I fit right in with their agency, you know? That felt really good to hear. It's like, oh, you know, sorry, we already got a brown girl. We don't need you. It's like, nope, you're welcomed right in. And that was beautiful to hear.

May: And that fits right in with what she wants.

Manuela: One of my biggest goals is to really show up as myself as I continue to dance as myself, as like the Afro-Latina I am. And I've definitely told myself I'm going to show up as myself and I want to be appreciated for how I look and who I am.

May: So Manuela hasn't made it onto Broadway or some big TV show – yet. But she's achieved her childhood dream. She is a professional dancer and she's doing it with every fiber of her being. Manuela Sanchez is a professional dancer and a fitness instructor based in Brooklyn, New York. Thank you to Manuela for sharing with us how her passion for dance and her heritage as an Afro-Dominicana have enriched her life.

I'm May Ortega. This episode was produced by me with mixing by Patrice Mondragon. Pedro Lumbrano wrote our theme music. This episode was edited by Erin Jones and Andrew Villegas. You can find a list of everybody who helped make this episode in the show notes. “¿Quién Are We?” is a production of Colorado Public Radio.

cpr/highlighted-content

cpr/ad-unit

<div class="gutenbergContent__content--1FgGp">
<h3 class="liveStreamTitle__heading--1M0Mg sidebarTitle__heading--3MUuI">Ways To Support CPR</h3>

	You make the news and music from Colorado Public Radio possible. Your active support builds our community, grounds us in shared experiences, and improves the lives of Coloradans. Support the stories and songs you and your neighbors rely on!

<ul>
<li><a href="https://donate.cpr.org/give" target="_blank">Become A Member</a> </li>
<li><a href="/sponsorship">Become A Sponsor</a></li>
<li><a href="/support/vehicle-donations">Donate Your Car</a> </li>
<li><a href="/support/donate-real-estate/">Donate Real Estate</a></li>
</ul>
</div>

core/freeform

¿Quién Are We? is a podcast from Colorado Public Radio exploring what it means to be Latino, Hispanic or Chicana ... or however you identify. Host and journalist May Ortega shares stories about our wide-ranging identities and the beautiful things that make us who we are.

¿Quién Are We?

Manuela Sanchez loved to dance and made it her career, but faced unexpected hardship.

The Dancer | Colorado Public Radio

The Dancer

Home

Colorado Public Radio

https://wp-cpr.s3.amazonaws.com/uploads/2020/08/CPR-Masterbrand-3000x2000-scaled.jpg

Life and Culture

News

Music

Law Enforcement

Indie Music

May Ortega

Sarah Mulholland

Police Reform

Paolo Zialcita

community gardens

Finances

Money

The Sentinel

Bazi Kanani

animals

barnum neighborhood

police

Government and Politics

Justice

Colorado News

gas prices

Aurora

Denver Metro

Crime

Gun Violence

Aurora Police Department

Transportation

Inflation

Hispanic Culture

Latino Americans

CPR News delivers in-depth, insightful and impartial news and information from across the country and throughout Colorado, examining its relevance to our state and connecting it to our communities.

CPR News

To inform, inspire and entertain all Coloradans by delivering meaningful news, music, and experiences to everyone in Colorado.

The Dancer

Latest Stories

From macabre to tender, Shovels & Rope showcase range on 10th album

Aurora ‘rolling gunfight’ on Havana linked to 2 other shootings among Venezuelan nationals, police say

Colorado’s inflation rate is flat, remains lower than in the rest of the U.S

Colorado hopes to tighten requirements to be a law enforcement officer

Sign Up For Our Newsletters

Upcoming Events

The 9th Annual Colorado Matters Holiday Extravaganza

CPR Classical Presents: A Colorado Christmas with The Colorado Symphony

Indie 102.3’s December Local 303 Meetup feat: Marfa

Listen to a Colorado Postcard