When I first started at the University of Michigan, I didn’t know what to expect. Madame Penny Godboldo’s class on Dunham technique gave me a sense of groundedness and home. Before class would start, Madame Penny would look her students in the eyes to see where their energy was, then direct the class in a way her students needed. That is the definition of care, her class felt like a big hug! I am still in contact with her and carry so many of her beautiful nuggets.
Madame Penny told us that if you see somebody doing a great job, they deserve to be celebrated. I never keep compliments to myself because it can uplift someone’s spirit. I think that’s really needed in New York City, especially during the audition process, which can feel so intimidating and daunting. As Mama Penny says, “I spread love and light.” As I continue in the new adventure of Broadway shows eight times a week in Moulin Rouge, I can hear her voice saying, “Don’t push too hard!”
Learning from Madame Penny, who was herself mentored by Katherine Dunham, gave me a love for the technique, and I am getting certified to teach it. I am also grateful to learn a technique that was created by a Black woman. Dunham technique is the closest connection I have to my ancestors from Africa—it feels like movement that has been in my body before and is now my foundation. I am interested in finding ways to intersect the technique with Broadway dancers, to show others how it can help sustain and strengthen. It’s not just movement—Dunham breathing exercises also help me with breath control and singing while performing expansive movement. Madame Penny also taught me about Dunham’s theory of self-examination, and how to detach the ego from performance. I’m still learning to navigate this in my career, and I’m honored that she is entrusting me to continue the Dunham legacy.
My ballet teacher Judy Rice was influential in my Broadway career. I didn’t feel like I fit in when I came to [UMich]. I wasn’t really happy, and I told her that I didn’t know what I was doing. She was the one who got me to enroll in Lisa Mayer’s class there on musical-theater styles. That was the start of my love for theater. It’s funny, I really had no idea what musical theater was! I liked the musical-theater students, and started seeing their musicals, and I said, “I think I can do that too!”
My childhood dance studio teachers Crystall Winkler and Gina Ellis at Legacy Dance Studio (in Southfield, Michigan) have also been wonderful mentors. From Ms. Ellis, I learned about professionalism and how to perform even during the warm-up. I learned a lot about storytelling from Ms. Ellis. She would ask me, “But what are you dancing about?” She also told me to learn to sing and act, and even now when I come home she asks me to sing something—”Three, two, one, go!” The other big thing I learned was to never follow another dancer. If you are going to make a mistake, own that mistake and learn from it. While auditioning for Debbie Allen for Tyler Perry’s film A Jazzman’s Blues, I completely forgot the combination, so I started improvising. I stuck out and ended up getting the job!
Ms. Crystall Winkler grew up dancing with my mom and taught me since I was 3. There is a long history, and she is like my second mama. I always knew she loved me, even when she was screaming my name at the top of her lungs. I learned to walk with a sense of urgency—she would tell us, “Don’t walk, run!” Even after I book a job, I briskly walk to my spot in rehearsals because of Ms. Crystall. She is also the one who encouraged me to start teaching and coached me. She trusted me with her young students and that meant a lot to me. As a Black woman, she taught me that people may assume I don’t have technique. She wanted us to know our ballet, be on pointe, take hip hop and tap, and be a representation at dance competitions in all styles. That training definitely helps me in auditions, because I am prepared for anything.
When I look at my teachers and everyone who has poured into me, I feel like I take everybody with me. Perhaps the older generation, like my mom, didn’t have the resources or couldn’t figure out how to get to Broadway. I hope they see themselves in me; I am because of you.