I first became familiar with Misty Copeland in the fall of my freshman year at college. I was scanning my Facebook home page, and I came across an intriguing article posted from The New Yorker entitled “An Unlikely Ballerina”. I remember being entranced with her captivating story: how she grew up in a complicated family situation, overcame the odds, and joined the corps at the American Ballet Theater despite struggling with severe stress, erratic weight gain, and debilitating depression. I read about her colossal break-through in becoming the first African-American woman to become a principal dancer in the ABT. Though I admit to rarely finishing any article I read online, I read until the very last word.
It has been over two years since I read that article, but Misty’s powerful story stuck with me. I have since spotted her promoting female strength and individuality in Oikos Yogurt’s “Be Unstoppably You” commercials, and Under Armour’s “I Will What I Want” Campaigns on tv and in magazines. Although I already had an incredible amount of respect for her, I had never seen her in action, that is, until I stumbled upon her Netflix documentary A Ballerina’s Tale.
Watching the film, it became apparent that Misty’s determination is perhaps the most moving aspect about her. Even as the camera follows her down the street and walks beside her, it becomes apparent that something is different about her. She blends in with the busy crowds of New Yorkers lining the street, and yet she walks with a type of secret confidence: a sense of self. Perhaps it is the way she holds her head up high, looking forward, and not shying away from the future, like she is ready for the next challenge.
On the stage, sweat pools on her forehead and trails down her cheeks, revealing her body’s exertion. She leaps onto her toes and the camera zooms in on her frayed pointe shoes—particularly the fabric that has worn away over many months of draining rehearsals with the American Ballet Theatre. She extends her lean and yet muscular arms, and waves them like a graceful swan, all while balancing on her toes. Throughout her dancing, her expression is consistent. She is in the moment—her moment. She doesn’t miss a single beat or lose an ounce of focus.
Although Misty conveys emotional and fantastical stories through her dancing, I feel as though her eyes tell a story. When she converses with friends, colleagues, or even the cameraman, her eyes seem to say more than her words. They tell a story of someone who has seen and been through it all: pain, struggle, loss, rejection, disappointment, determination, success, victory, triumph.
I think many people can relate to Misty’s story for a variety of reasons. Some might relate to her struggle with having an unstable family, and the chaos that surrounded her everyday life. Others might share in her battle against binge-eating, and the fight to be physically and mentally strong. For me personally, I understand some of the pain and struggle that she has faced in her professional life. I have stood in countless music lessons where my teachers have doubted me and my ability to reach my full potential as an artist. I have had relatives tell me that I wasn’t “good enough” to get into a competitive arts camp (that I eventually attended), just like Misty was told that she didn’t have the “right body” to be a real ballerina. As Misty dealt with a devastating injury which put her career on hold right after her iconic Firebird performance, I fought tendonitis which flared up at a pivotal point in my life when I was auditioning for music school. During practices and performances, left arm burned and ached with pain as I played through my physically demanding Wieniawski concerto and Paganini caprice over and over. I was worried that the pain would prevent me from making it through each audition. To have such an incapacitating hindrance occur at this time in my life was unnerving, to say the least. However, reading about how Misty recovered and little by little returned to her career provided me with comfort.
Although Misty inspires me from an artistic viewpoint, more importantly, she reminds me that even though there are obstacles along the way and cynics who will doubt me, I too can overcome them, just like she did. I just need to stay focused and strong. It sounds cliché, I know, but now more than ever, I need to hear the message that Misty imparts with not only her dance, but with her life: one of hope.