I was raised in a Southern Christian Baptist home but didn’t internalize faith like my family. I didn’t know who I was, but I knew I couldn’t believe in a higher power just because my family did. As a child yearning for meaning, dancing provided access to my most honest and vulnerable self. Being told at a young age that I could find a home in the dance world was all I needed. I thought dance was the source of everything in my life. I found my purpose… or at least I believed I did. Dance wasn’t just a part of me-- it was me, completely.

 

I’ve studied modern, contemporary, ballet, and improvisational techniques since a teenager and began my professional career at 17 years old. I’ve been immersed in physical storytelling for most of my life. By performing in narrative ballets such as “The Rite of Spring”, or abstracted contemporary works like “Whale” by Gallim, I fell in love with telling stories through movement. Through my choreography, I tend to position the audience as spectators to an experience. Honing in on the experience of the artists involved because if the artists believe in the work it will naturally give the audience their own visceral experience.

 

When I believed in the work, I felt something special. My defensive layer shed off bit by bit the more I moved. My art became rooted in my desire to find out who I was. Dance became the foundation of my being. That’s been my approach for most of my career: do work that I feel; work I believe in. If I believed in the work, the audience would too. If the audience received something, then I would be hired again. Another job, another piece, another opportunity to find myself. I centered my entire life around this formula. It gave me my “voice” and was my purpose. I never thought about dance going away. Why would I? How could it? Well, it did, and I fell into depression without it. Four long, hard years of “Who am I? What was my purpose now? If I can’t dance, why be here?” Where would I get my hope from now?

 

In the Summer of 2023, I had a random urge to open the Bible. I was shocked by this revelation-- why would I take the time to learn more about the God who hurt me? See I’ve had my doubts about God since my grandparents died– the two most outstanding humans to ever exist were taken from me. My faith in God weakened-- I blamed him for my pain. From their deaths and being sexually assaulted- I have for some reason held on to hope. I figured there must be a reason that was beyond me, so I opened it and started reading. Since then I’ve changed--- my desires and even my outlook on life. Even after attempting suicide, I clung to the promises I read because He promised peace and that’s all I ever wanted.

 

Who is this new William? I’m still grappling with the fact that I want to live my life as a follower of Christ who dances. So, I’ve shifted from creating work to find myself to sharing the power of faith through dance. My goal as a creative has always been to facilitate a safe space for artists of different backgrounds and skill sets. Now that I’ve started to walk by Faith, I also want to use my work as invitation for others to learn about God. Most are aware of Hell, but I don’t think many know we were made for Heaven.

 

Using the Zaccho space during my residency has granted me the time and space to blend my choreography with my faith. I started learning aerial dance at the beginning of 2024 with Sign My Name To Freedom by SFBATCO where Joanna Haigood was the aerial choreographer. Since then my interest in aerial arts has grown to new heights. Moving forward I want to see how the use of aerial arts and my faith will affect my choreography.

 

My initial choreographic process was centered on "present" moments. I generated phrase work throughout the rehearsal process rather than coming in with preset choreography. This was the case for both the movement vocabulary and the narrative. I found that this way of working provoked natural responses and provided a clearer through-line for my work. I plan to continue with this way of working but recently I utilized choreography I recorded during my darkest times that I found brought a deep reality to my state of grief but a stronger gratitude for where I am now. I will continue this process while also incorporating biblical texts such as Psalms 91 and different biblical stories such as the Book of Job as the basis for the narrative. Through my choreography, I hope to provide a visual representation of "The Good News." When I started my career, I initially wanted to find a dance home, but I felt like an afterthought, a burden, and an outcast. Since there wasn't one waiting for me, I decided to create this home myself. I began to create in a way that I hoped would be of service to the artists involved, and ultimately, to myself. Now that I have found my home through faith, I want to not only create a safe space for creatives but also use my work as an open invitation.

 

My choreography is an ongoing testimony- a view into my past and present, before and after my own suicide attempt, and how God saved me. Suicide is taboo, but it impacts so many lives that I want my work to be a symbol of hope, love, and strength to those who may be suffering.