As a chunky Asian baby in a leotard, I had no idea yet how precious or valuable I was when I started in ballet. Instead, I only saw that I was clearly not cut from the same cloth as elegant princesses and swans whose dancing I admired. The chance to don yellowface in the Chinese variation during "The Nutcracker," or to be a kowtowing, shuffling child in "The King and I" in the school play felt like places I was welcome to exist—to shine—as a child who dreamed of being onstage.
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