100 Interviews

He Werks Hard For the Money

by: Elyssa Goodman

“WERK!!!”

Moans and bass pulse on the stereo and suddenly Raymond Ejiofor’s long, lean leg flies upward. He is so close to kicking himself in the face but stops, with perfect control, merely an inch from his nose. His lithe body leans backward in a perfect arch, leg still extended, as moans continue from the speakers. The song is “If This Pussy Could Talk” by Ken Doll. The moves are choreography by Raymond himself.

“Werk” is one of the highest compliments, paid only to those literally or metaphorically earning that money—working, or “werking.” It is often accompanied by a finger snap.

The rallying cry resounds from the edges of the room over and over now, as dancers look on at Raymond, kicking his face, executing quadruple pirouettes, and leaping into the air with effortless grace.

Tonight, Raymond, a Decision Science student at Carnegie Mellon, is having fun. This choreography is all about sass, sex, and fierceness. His students are members of the Dancer’s Symposium Company (DS Company), comprised of non-dance major students at Carnegie Mellon University looking for more serious dance exposure.

In the company are an actor, two architects, a chemist and a business major, among others, all with years of dance training. Raymond founded DS Company to run alongside the already-established Dancer’s Symposium, a more informal dance group for dancers of all levels, so trained dancers like himself could continue with their passions while at school.

As Ken Doll moans in the background, and with Raymond as their model, they are all werking.

*

This was over a year ago. Raymond has since graduated and is employed full-time as a dancer.

In September 2010, Raymond was invited to join Pittsburgh’s August Wilson Center Dance Ensemble while in his final year at Carnegie Mellon. Founded not long after its parent space, the August Wilson Center for African-American Culture, the August Wilson Dance Centre Ensemble is meant to act as a pre-professional company, seeking to give dance students who would normally flock to New York the same opportunities in Pittsburgh.

Since Raymond joined, the company has worked with choreographers like Robert Battle, now Artistic Director of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre and Darrell Grand Moultrie, a rising choreographer whose work has been performed by the likes of Dance Theatre of Harlem, Ailey II, Atlanta Ballet and Sacramento Ballet. The company also had the opportunity to perform at SummerStage in Central Park in Summer 2011, opening for Armitage Gone! Dance Company.

In the company, Raymond, a Decision Science major, would be performing with students from dance conservatory programs all over Pittsburgh, but he was no slouch. As long as I’ve known him, Raymond has always actively sought out growth as a dancer. In many ways, he designed his own dance curriculum and, by taking classes on his own, has probably amassed the hours equivalent to a dance degree.

“I literally did everything dance-related that I could, I never said no to anything,” he says.

Training and honed skills aren’t just going to come to you in your sleep, after all. He learned how to use the Pittsburgh bus system and rented Zipcars to get to classes all over the city; he danced with the Carnegie Mellon School of Drama, in fashion shows, and took classes with dance establishments around Pittsburgh, from Dance Alloy and AttackTheatre to Point Park University and the Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre.

I remember him asking people to join him in ballet classes at 10:30 a.m. on a Saturday, only to hear groans in response. But when we were all hungover, he was out getting his dance education. He was doing the stuff that made his soul breathe while still taking care of regular demand schoolwork at Carnegie Mellon. He is all the better for it.

“A lot of people earlier in my college career thought I was a better dancer than I was; I grew to the level people thought I was,” Raymond says.

When he joined the August Wilson Center Dance Ensemble, though, his confidence weakened a bit.

“How was I going to compete with these kids down the street who got an amazing dance education? I didn’t come from a conservatory background,” he says. It wasn’t easy for him to believe in himself. “I was dancing with some of the top dancers at Point Park [a university in the area known for its top-notch dance program]. I had this idea that I wasn’t good enough, and I didn’t get over that for a while.”

Eventually, though, confidence emerged: “Once I shed that doubt, I think the possibilities grew for me,” he says. “I have a lot more confidence and respect for myself and it shows in what I present. You learn how to present your body to the fullest, to use what you’ve been given. I’m in a much better place in the perception of myself as a dancer.”

Raymond was, and is, one of the most talented dancers my age I have ever seen, who any of our dancer friends have seen. Raymond even auditioned and made it to “Vegas Week” on the hit dance show “So You Think You Can Dance,” which is basically like round five after all the cuts they don’t show you on TV. We all sat glued to our televisions hoping to see Raymond dancing behind the magical television glass, and eventually we did!

Our friend Anna taped it and photographed it. The caption on Facebook reads: “OUR VERY OWN SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE STARRRRRRRR!!!!!!!! in the flesh. he’s famous.”

Raymond was cut the next round, but we all knew he was still amazing. “I want to be fierce like you, Raymond,” our friend Jesse used to say. But we all were thinking it.

Having had the pleasure of dancing with Raymond occasionally during college (I danced for fun for many years but never considered myself a dancer), it always mystified me why he didn’t “run off and join the circus”—the dance world. Watching him perform, I perpetually wonder how he could have studied anything but dance.

But non-dance education is also important to Raymond. Raymond’s mother raised three boys on her own and always put education first. He started dancing when he was 10 years old but was not allowed to attend class if he didn’t do well in school.

“I was a nerd,” Raymond says. “It [dance] was an escape, it was something I was good at, it made me happy, it helped define who I am,” he says. Raymond also credits the art form with developing his sense of confidence, responsibility, and discipline.

This same sense of responsibility, though, is likely part of what made Raymond study something other than dance. Though a recipient of the prestigious Gates Millenium Scholarship, which the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation gives to 1,000 rising college students each year as a “good-through-graduation scholarship to use at any college or university of their choice,” Raymond doesn’t take it for granted.

“I can’t fully bank…dance forever; I’d like to have the necessary tools in my tool belt so I don’t have to start from the beginning however old I am when I stop dancing or make a transition.” He would want to do “something where I can make a difference and my voice will be heard,” he says.

For this reason, Raymond chose Decision Science at Carnegie Mellon, and is currently playing with the idea of studying Public Policy or Public Health in graduate school.

But Raymond has no intention of pausing his dancing life. “A goal of mine for awhile has to been to move to LA [for the dance scene] and one of the ways to go about doing that for me was for school,” he says. “I have to be in an area where I could still be working and growing as a dancer. Yes, yes, yes, always.”

Raymond encourages everyone to grow, too. I was actually his student for a semester, in a jazz class he taught at school. If you mess up, just keep turning it out, he’d say. When telling us to really perform a combination, he’d show us first what he wanted—“Boom Kah! And leg. Walk, walk, walk. Don’t forget to be fierce. And you’re just werking, okay?”

It didn’t matter the level of dancer: he always asked us to push ourselves, to make the class our own. Raymond didn’t get where he is by slacking off, and he wasn’t about to let anyone else do that either.

“No matter who you’re working with you should always give 100% of yourself,” he says. It’s one of the things I’ve always loved about him. He’s never believed he’s “too good” for anybody, he’s not some holier-than-thou dance snob. Raymond is nurturing but tough—he expects the same of others as he does of himself. The dedication and passion bead up on his skin as he dances, like drops of sweat that never leave.

The passion started early, too. “I was always known for dancing around since I was very, very small,” Raymond says. “I loved Michael Jackson when I was younger, I grooved to him all the time. I always had energy that needed to be expelled, and dance ended up being that.”

It wasn’t until Raymond was 10 years old, though, that a teacher in elementary school asked him if he was interested in dancing. Raymond didn’t find out until recently that this teacher herself had paid for the summer intensive he attended, at Youth Dancers of Arlington. He’s been dancing since then.

Raymond’s immediate family, his mother and two brothers, were all very supportive. I have even heard Raymond tell stories of how his brothers use the word “fierce” to describe him. It’s not something the average sibling would say, I don’t think. Raymond’s mother was his “personal taxi driver to classes, auditions,” he laughs. “I wanted to be an actor, I wanted to rule the world as a child and she was very supportive of all of that. We didn’t have the funds necessarily for those dreams to become a reality. I was on scholarship a lot for all of the dancing I did.” But she encouraged Raymond by telling him to be the best he can be, to go with whatever purpose God had placed on him.

Not everyone was so supportive, though. Raymond, who is now openly gay, was not so in the oh-so-awkward stages of middle school and part of high school.

“Middle school was rough,” he says. “I was skinny, I had a high voice, and I was flaming, which was obvious to everyone but myself. And I was dancing, but I grew stronger because of all the shit I had to deal with. I don’t think you know how much something means to you until someone tells you how ‘gay’ you are for doing it, and if you can push past all of that then it shows how much you love it.”

I will never, ever forget a dance Ray choreographed for Dancer’s Symposium, entitled “Gay, Extra, Fierce”—it incorporated the sounds of RuPaul, among others, as well as sparkly hats, feather boas, and lots of spandex. It was almost like a salute to himself, for having come so far and leaving the closet so far behind. It was beautiful, sexy, and inspiring.

All of Raymond’s work is beautiful and inspiring, really. Not all of it is all sexy all the time—that’s mostly just for fun these days. His work is more serious now, and he’s currently interested in the contemporary modern dance style, heavily influenced by dancer/choreographers like Kyle Abraham and Sidra Bell. Their movements are graceful yet challenging and innovative. They inspire Raymond, as always, to keep growing. With the knowledge of dance he’s gained, he’s open to all different kinds of movements, like being awkward or pedestrian.

He’s also interested in “doing what makes sense instead of what would be a spectacle; simplicity saying something simple and being simple about it; creating intriguing and interesting shapes that are not so linear or defined.” He is also interested in  “letting the body go and exploring different spaces, details and tasks in different movement, the idea of playing more, more freedom and discovery and exploring, letting myself edit more, letting go, letting the work be more about the dancers and their own story as well.”

Since beginning with the August Wilson Center Dance Ensemble, Raymond has learned much about the nature of dance as an art form.

“My eye has gotten sharper and cleaner,” he says. “My taste and movement have definitely changed. I am less about the tricks and more about storytelling, really delving into what it means to be an artist and not just a dancer. You can be a dancer and you can also be an artist. I’m transitioning to be a true artist, that’s my goal.”

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Elyssa Goodman is a writer based in New York. Her work has been published in Time Out New York, Nerve.com, and Her Campus.com, among other publications across the U.S. and Canada; she is also the blogstress behind Miss Manhattan, a blog about city living. Photo by Elyssa Goodman.