By Kikora Franklin
Associate Director of Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion; Associate Professor, Penn State School of Theatre

~
“Dream Variations”
By Langston Hughes¹

To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While night comes on gently,
Dark like me-
That is my dream!

To fling my arms wide
In the face of the sun,
Dance! Whirl! Whirl!
Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening…
A tall slim tree…
Night coming tenderly
Black like me.
~

Langston Hughes’s Dream Variations speaks of a freedom and purpose that I long and strive for each day I am blessed with life. I am privileged and honored to have the opportunity to do what I do for a living, share my experiences, and give voice and inspiration to others. Here, I tell a story of my past, in order to appreciate the present, and envision and create a lasting future.

Legacy – Variations of a Dream

1935, Daytona Beach, Florida, USA — A little brown girl, about 5 years old, makes her way to the Boardwalk overlooking the blue water. With the Atlantic Ocean as her backdrop, she straightens her ruffled dress, takes a deep breath, and prepares for a grand performance. She smiles as wide as the Atlantic… taps as loud as the roar of its waves, and sings “On the Good Ship Lollipop,” by Shirley Temple…the crowd applauds. The little brown girl, in this precious moment, is full of hope. Her dreams of moving to New York City one day and becoming a performer are as real and present as the waves that beat the coast behind her.

1959, Atlanta, GA, USA — An eight-year-old girl intently watches another girl, much like herself; in a black leotard, black tights, and ballet shoes, the young girl dances across a stage. She contracts her torso, spreads her arms, and stretches to the sky. The girl watching is entranced, captivated, and inspired by the dancer’s emotion and power. She daydreams and sees herself… dancing, whirling, the same way as the little girl in front of her on the stage. She is full of hope and dreams of becoming a dancer and performer.

1998, Gorée Island, Senegal, West Africa — The sounds of drums fill the hot yet comforting summer air. A young woman, newly graduated from college, dances barefoot on the dirt, atop a mountain overlooking the Atlantic. She finishes her dance and is now prepared to enter the old structures, dirt floors, and empty cells that were the last image of home for her ancestors centuries before. She weaves in and out of now empty spaces, imagining what it was like when the same rooms were filled with human beings…people who would be forever separated from all they had known and loved. They would now be led through the “Door of No Return.” This young, free, future-ancestor looks out of the door, across the Atlantic. She is inspired and determined to share the story of this place, La Maison des Esclaves, and the dances and culture she’s lived and learned, with her yet unborn children. As she stares across the vast waters, perhaps her eyes are focused in the direction of Atlanta, Georgia or even Daytona Beach; her heart certainly is.

View images of “The Door of No Return,” Gorée Island, Senegal, West Africa

That girl on the Daytona Beach Boardwalk in 1935, dreaming of her future, was my mother’s mother, Dorimell Axam. As fate would have it, her dreams do not come true in the way she thought. For reasons out of her control, she never made it to New York City to become a performer. She eventually moved to Atlanta, GA, fell in love, married, and started a family. In addition to being a wife and mother, she was a visual artist, seamstress, beautician, homemaker, and philanthropist; she was beauty and strength personified. All those who knew my grandmother or even met her briefly, were moved by her presence, energy, and warmth. She poured everything she had into her children and eventually her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. My grandmother’s dreams of performing never died; they transformed, into a vision and reality for her children and her children’s children.

The eight-year-old girl watching the young dancer in 1959 was my mother, Terrie Ajile Axam, the second oldest of my grandparents’ six children. She grew up in the south during the 50s and 60s, when water fountains, public swimming pools, and restaurants were still segregated. Surprisingly, my mother’s memories of this time of her life don’t include feelings of intimidation or fear – rather, she wondered if the water in the “Colored” fountain would come out in actual colors. Ever defiant and courageous, my Grandma Dorimell allowed my mother and her siblings to drink from whichever fountain they preferred. She raised them to respect themselves and others, despite laws to the contrary.

My mother, like her mother, had dreams of dancing and performing. She danced as a young girl and made her way to Princeton University as an undergraduate student. While at Princeton, she started an African dance company, the “Ajile Dancers,” which provided much needed support to black students at that time. My mother’s dreams of dancing were realized in a myriad of ways. She studied all forms of dance and created her own movement technique, Mojah. She has taught and influenced hundreds (if not thousands) of students over her career. She traveled the world teaching and performing and planted the seed of dance in me.

Who I Am – A Dream Realized

I am the young lady who looked across the ocean in Senegal, the same water that my ancestors were forced to cross, and that my grandmother danced in front of in 1935. It is in Senegal, where I found my authentic voice as an artist and performer and deepened my understanding of dance and movement as vital in the lifeline of African people and people of African descent.

The music, rhythms, and dance of African people are the foundation of much of America’s contemporary popular culture (a fact that is not always acknowledged). This culture helped Africans in America maintain community and connection to one another- historically and presently. I, like my mother, have been privileged to travel the world, teaching, performing, and learning.

From my classes in African Dance, Hip Hop Theatre, and Mojah Dance, to working in the community, I draw upon my artistic inheritance for my work as an artist/educator.

Teaching and performing my mother’s original technique, Mojah, is a core part of my creative work. Mojah combines elements from other dance styles including modern, jazz, and West African. It is a dance technique, and much more. Mojah is a reclaiming of identity, culture, and spirit expressed in and through the body. It connects me to my heritage and a familial artistic legacy. In Hip Hop Theatre, students explore Hip Hop culture, their personal stories, and their own lived experiences. They learn to embrace their own voice to create and perform original pieces.

Through my work with Roots of Life Performing Arts Ensemble, a community-based arts-education program I co-founded, young students learn through engaging in lessons in West African dance, drumming, history, and literature. Through arts, young people have the opportunity to relate to each other and the world with a sense of curiosity, an appreciation for a plurality of perspectives, and respect for our common humanity.

Inspiring Other Dreamers

In an increasingly uncertain world, I find myself reflecting more and more upon my history, my purpose, and my place in it. I am a wife and a mother of three black humans. For me, black lives matter everyday, they always have. I am a teacher who works to inspire and advocate for my students’ lives and their right to self-expression and self-determination. I believe that we should not underestimate our children’s (and our own) capacity to learn the broader truth of our nation and world, our ability to critique it, whilst continuing to work toward its ideals.

My dreams have been and continue to be my own, yet I believe my familial and cultural legacy makes me responsible to my children, my students, and community. For my part, I will continue to share my story. In so doing, I hope to inspire others to fling their arms wide in some place of the sun, to whirl and to dance, till the quick is done, then rest at cool evening, beneath a tall tree, so that they too, may find and follow their dreams.

^{1 “Dream Variations” was published in The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes (Alfred A. Knopf, 1994). – https://poets.org/poem/dream-variations}

Additional links:

Mojah Dance Legacy, short doc, produced by Penn State alum, Rasha Gurriere

Roots of Life Performing Arts Ensemble