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My passion for sociology, my major in college, began when I first entered college in the fall of 2000. The rationale for this choice was not readily apparent to me at first, considering the fact that until that time, my interests and ambitions centered around the performing arts and involvement with them on a professional level. However, upon deeper reflection, I discovered that my entire life embraced experiences that were steadily building within me an intense passion, interest, and fascination with the human condition that frames every area of life.

Just prior to my 24th birthday, I began my first college semester, almost 8 years since I’d set foot into an academic class. I began by taking three dance classes, along with a general psychology and sociology class. It was in the sociology class that I noticed how differently each student viewed the world they lived in. More importantly, I realized my own confusion about the world around me. I grew up raised by my mother. My sister and I were sent to private schools in the Los Angeles area, and while our family was not rich, we didn’t have to worry about much. At the age of 13, my mother, believing I needed more of a male role model in my life, decided it would be best for me to go live with my father. My father was not very used to being responsible for anyone, but he always tried his best.

The first summer I spent with my father, I enrolled in a drama workshop. I believed that just because I had a phobia of speaking in front of audiences, I could be an actor. I was awful at it, but because each actor was required to take a dance class every day, that was my first exposure to the art that would figure so prominently in my future. I especially enjoyed the two ballet classes we took each week and told my father that I was going to be a ballet dancer. Considering that I was only 5’5” and about 150 pounds, he was not convinced that I could ever end up being a ballet dancer. After the ballet teacher told him that it would be good exercise for me and promised him that she could get me to stand up straight, he agreed to continue taking me to ballet class twice a week.

A year later, I convinced my parents to let me attend the local arts high school. They were not very happy about it but hoped that it would cause me to have more interest in other parts of school. For the first time in my life, my classmates were not all white, upper-middle class students. I realized that I had many prejudices, most of which were pretty innocent and simply due to ignorance on my part. My interest in schooling did not increase, but for the first time in my life, I learned to enjoy diversity, including my own.

The Los Angeles High School for the Arts held many after school groups for people to discuss their ideas about diversity. One day, I attended a discussion group on homosexuality. For a few years prior to this, I knew I was gay and felt ashamed, but mainly I was afraid what my life would be like if I were openly homosexual. After that meeting and learning about other students in the school who had already “come out,” I had the courage to “come out” myself.

I did not originally intend to come out to my parents, but one day my father went through my room and found notes I had written to friends and was able to figure it out. My family’s perception of homosexuality came from my grandfather, who’d molested my father, my uncles, and me. My molestation experience landed my grandfather in jail when I was in junior high school and the subject of molestation and “gay” was never spoken about again. My father could only relate homosexuality to child molestation and told me that I was just confused. “Just give it time” he said, “your feelings will change.” A few months after this, without telling my parents, I applied to a boarding school for ballet dancers and received a full scholarship. After many debates with my parents, they allowed me to go. I left California and moved to Florida. Being away from home, I wasn’t pressured to address the issue of homosexuality with my father. But I developed an eating disorder while there and halfway through the school year the school’s director told me I was losing too much weight and sent me home.

Back in California and once again attending The Los Angeles High School for the Arts, I began to ditch all my academic classes and would only attend my ballet classes. My father and I continued to fight constantly, partially about the classes I ditched, but mostly about my sexual identity.

Finally, at 16 my father kicked me out of the house. I knew nothing about surviving on my own and had no place to live, so I slept in my car. It wasn’t long until I was stuck in a position in which there was only one way to survive. I became a prostitute on the streets of Hollywood. The next few weeks were the scariest in my life. I will not give any details, for at this point they are unnecessary. What I will say is that for a long time I felt hatred for every man who ever picked me up. But now, I feel sad that for whatever reason, they had to pay someone to satisfy their deepest needs, (forbidden by our society).

It was about a month later when a friend suggested I get my life back on track, and revive my dream of being a ballet dancer. He suggested I call GLASS (Gay and Lesbian Adolescent Social Services). That phone call immediately got me off the street and into a shelter for child prostitutes, Children of the Night. While I was in the shelter, I met some amazing people. I was inspired by the positive attitude of my roommate, a complex 14-year old, who had been a prostitute for much of his young life. I also became best friends with another teen staying there.

Although I now cannot remember his name, I will never forget my 17-year old Hispanic friend who had been on the streets for years and chose the shelter instead of time in jail. He was the quintessential example of kindness and compassion and demonstrated leadership qualities I greatly admired, as he nurtured our young group.

When I first arrived at the shelter, I thought of myself as different than everyone else. I figured that I was the one who was not supposed to be there. I was the one who was not meant to have a life so difficult. Through my friends and all the other kids in the shelter, I realized that we are all people and nobody could ever imagine that their life could be like this.

The staff of Children of the Night was also amazing. Being a 16 year old with no place to go, I figured they would only want to teach me a skill or just push me back into school. But after I told them I planned on being a ballet dancer, they started sending me to ballet school each day. I told them that I had auditioned for some ballet schools before I left my father’s house. They got in touch with Milwaukee Ballet, which had formerly offered me a scholarship for their summer program; the staff of children of the Night made all the arrangements for me to attend that summer. The Shelter had me take my high school equivalency test and at the end of that summer, Milwaukee Ballet offered me a traineeship to the company.

The time I was on the street and the short time in the shelter changed my life. I would never look at the world the same again.

Some of the staff at Milwaukee Ballet knew I had come there following my stay at the shelter, but did not know the details of why I was there. Eventually, I shared this information with one of my teachers, who encouraged me to be thankful that I survived the experience. She reminded me that I was still very young and had my whole future ahead of me. Besides teaching me ballet, she expanded my knowledge of the world by introducing me to a wide variety of literature, films, and music. These tools not only expanded my pursuit of artistry, but also encouraged me to work on academic interests. After my apprenticeship with the Milwaukee Ballet, I was granted a full scholarship to the School of American Ballet (SAB), one of the country’s top ballet schools. I was 18 years old and suddenly, I belonged to an elite group of ballet students who resided in the Rose Building in New York City’s Lincoln Center. I rehearsed with Jerome Robbins, took class with Mikhail Baryshnikov, and was approached by Lincoln Kirstein, who took a personal interest in my welfare and happiness.

At that time, I didn’t appreciate the opportunity or experience of dancing and training with such a prestigious school. My life was now more comfortable than ever before. I started to use a lot of drugs while living in New York City. While I still had no problems with going to my ballet classes and remaining a top student, I knew that I had gone through too much to take a chance and waste it all on drugs. I felt the best way to stop using drugs was to leave city. Later that year, I received my first paying job as an apprenticeship to the Indianapolis Ballet Theater. From there, I went on to dance for Chicago Ballet, Pittsburgh Ballet Theater, Tulsa Ballet Theater, Dallas Fort Worth Ballet, and the Harford Ballet Company. By the age of 22, I had gained the respect of my peers, traveled throughout North and South America, and was dancing soloist roles.

However, something vital was missing from my life. All the years of excelling in physical performance art made me hunger for intellectual stimulation and I desperately needed to fill that void. Another factor that led me to my decision to retire from dancing was my dislike of the nomadic lifestyle of hotel room stays or depending on the charity of friends for a place to stay. I was tiring of moving from city to city, without a place I could really call “home.” I took pride in my accomplishments but needed to retire from dancing, which I did in January of 1999, beginning a new life rich in academic challenge.

The transition was not as comfortable or immediate as I hoped. I needed a full year to feel confident with my new direction. I had to readjust my identity and realized that who I am is not necessarily based on what I do for a living.

During this difficult changeover, I reflected on my unique past and how I experienced life from such extreme perspectives. Within the period of a few years, I had gone from a homeless person on the streets of Hollywood to an artist performing at Lincoln Center and attending black-tie Galas. As a result, I have a diverse group of friends from all classes of society. Coming from a white, middle-class family, I could have lived a fairly simple life and part of me is a bit jealous and curious about those who have lived such a different lifestyle. I have survived difficult experiences and still managed to fulfill my dream of being a professional ballet dancer. I realize and appreciate the blessing of those achievements, and am aware that many people who experience such trials may not have come through quite as well.

After years of living from moment to moment and working on my own life, I am now able to turn this introspection into a concern and love of those around me and society in general. I have even begun to rebuild my relationships with my parents and family. I now attend a first rate public university in the United States on a full merit scholarship. My friends and family all wonder why I study sociology, and I usually just tell them that it interest me most. The majority of those around me have no clue about my history other than the fact that I was once a ballet dancer. The fact is, my experience with diverse places, individuals, and societal groups enables me to have a unique perspective and understanding which greatly enhances my current studies.

The societal topography of each city is so diverse; each community being a microcosm of attitudes, emotions, morals and class which fascinate and concern me. I chose sociology as my major to enable me to better understand the world, not only from my perspective, but also from varying perspectives. My goal is that through education I can obtain the tools to help others going through difficult situations and open to them all the possibilities and hope that was once offered to me.