“To be moved”

Formation used to feel like something fixed—lines, stillness, control. It was about knowing your place, your mark, and holding it with discipline. In dance, especially in more traditional spaces, formation created a clear frame: structured, predictable, and often rigid.

But over time, my understanding of formation has shifted. It’s no longer just about where you stand or how precise you are. Formation can be fluid—shaped by rhythm, by intention, by the people moving within it. In many ways, that evolution mirrors the feeling of Miami.

Community itself is a kind of formation. It’s not always perfect or clean. It’s shaped by relationships, trust, movement, and change. It’s built not through tension or control, but through mutual support and the willingness to adapt.

Dance teaches us form and technique, but it’s the people—audiences, peers, students, collaborators—who give that form meaning. Art becomes a space where identities can move freely, where expression doesn’t have to follow a single path.

In Miami, nothing stays in one shape for long. The city breathes, shifts, and grows. Community here isn’t about conformity—it’s about showing up, about creating shared rhythm. What we build together doesn’t have to be perfectly aligned. It just has to be alive.

Formation, like identity, like community, isn’t static. It’s something we constantly reimagine—together.