Harper Watters On How Owning Your Identity Will Change Your Life

Oh, absolutely. I'm adopted, so both my parents are Caucasian, and I've always been someone who's super-sensitive and aware of their surroundings. I used to be so petrified of people staring and looking at me, and I would internalize it as I'm different. It really took time and growing into my own that I was able to shift that. In auditions and in dance classes, I would look around; I'm the only person of color. I grew up in New Hampshire, you know—predominantly white. I went to a private school, and I really was the only African American in my school. I felt that sticking out [feeling] there.

But in dance, particularly, is when I started to be like, wait a second. If I stick out, and you're already looking at me, that means I have your attention. So now I have an opportunity to show you my hard work, everything I've worked for, and really show them who I am. You know? It's embracing your differences, embracing your flaws, what makes you unique, what makes you stand out so that you can take people's attention and say, "Now watch."

I really felt like I was a celebrity. I was like, I've made it. I am iconic forever. Like, I could retire.

And then you're brought back down to reality a little bit. But the response that I got was amazing, and I really do credit those videos for helping my dancing. Because when I posted those videos, I was in the corps de ballet. When you're a corps dancer, that's where you spend the majority of your time in the company, and it can be difficult to take yourself out of the corps to achieve a demi-soloist or soloist higher ranking because that's the largest body of the company. You have to find what unique things can you do to kind of distinguish yourself from the rest. And I started posting those heel videos when I was just in the corps, and I was like, oh my gosh. All these people love them, and it's so easy for me to be myself—over-the-top Harper—on social media. Why am I not doing that in my work?

Yeah. Social media obviously has its flaws and can have its downsides, and I even was guilty of trying to please people and trying to give the people what they want. And of course I can become aware of what works and what doesn't, but trying to please people will be your biggest downfall in life. Trying to make others happy by sacrificing who you are is only a detriment to who you are and what you want to accomplish.

I was just about to go into my sophomore year of high school, and I was at the time going to private school in New England. I had these two close friends in high school, and I had a TV in my bedroom, and I was watching America's Next Top Model. I was chatting in a three-way call just like in Mean Girls. On the TV was Miss J, who was one of the judges—the catwalk judge. He was teaching them how to be a better runway model.

I wasn't out to them at the time, and [one of my friends] goes, "You know, you remind me so much of Miss J except you're straight." And I said, "Huh. You know, actually, I'm gay." It eased out. It was very simple. Her reaction was very calm and kind of like, "OK. Oh, I kind of knew and love that."

When I left that conversation, it was like that music video from Beyoncé, "Hold Up," where she opens the door in this yellow dress and this floodwater just comes pouring out, and she struts down the stairs. It was just this big, big relief.

But you know, a week later I was petrified to get back to school, and I created all these scenarios in my head about—I mean, it was New England. It was a hockey town. I was like, I'm not going to be accepted. I'm going to be bullied. So that really was the impetus to audition for performing arts high school. I knew that the community of a performance arts high school would be much more supportive.

I'm a firm believer of everything happens for a reason. Looking back, I would encourage the LGBTQ youth that you don't have to switch your environment. You don't have to make a drastic change like that to come out. There will always be people to support you. And if it's not your blood family, the chosen family is equally strong and equally supportive.

My first Pride, I thought Pride was supposed to be—yay, gay people! Let's put on a glittery rainbow and go outside!

But just like Memorial Day and just like Veterans Day, these days aren't just to have a day. It's because of the sacrifice and fight that people have done. Pride didn't start as a parade—it started as a riot. And this is to commemorate that.

My career as an African American queer dancer, I'm able to say that because of the dancers who danced through adversity before me. I stand on their shoulders being able to achieve my dreams and my goals because of them. So we as a community have to realize that being gay and saying that and living your best life and twirling and kicking and owning everything so comfortably, that is because of people who came before us who have fought tooth and nail for that. Pride is just as much a celebration as much as it is an acknowledgment of the past. Fifty years in the big picture, that's just 1969 when that happened. That's not that long ago. What could another 50 do?

When you're celebrating and you're throwing on the cute outfit with the rainbows, what else could you do?

I don't want to just limit it to the heterosexuals of the world, but not doing anything is almost as bad as doing something negative. It again goes back to that put yourself outside of your comfort zone. Put yourself into the uncertainty. Always something really good, I feel, happens from that. By not participating in something, you're still affecting someone. Small acts of kindness or change will make a greater change.