From a very young age, I was always drawn to the physical and the powerful feelings I had when I ran, climbed, and jumped. But when I discovered dance in the sixth grade, I realized I could explore another level of power — which was control. And I enjoyed feeling and seeing the results of my work and discipline as I grew into the professional dancer that I became with PHILADANCO and subsequently, the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater.
I lost that control — that power — when I was forced to quit dancing in 1997 due to injury. In fact, I felt completely powerless. My identity was stripped away along with the ability to do the thing I loved so much. I stepped away from the dance community for several years but found my way back to it in 2006 when I began presenting dance at an outdoor New York festival. Through my experience and leadership, I have been able to, for the past 20 years, guide other dance voices on their artistic journeys — and I do not take this position of influence lightly. Being around these bodies and spirits continues to fill my soul.
"I felt completely powerless. My identity was stripped away along with the ability to do the thing I loved so much."
Danni GeeBut recently I was called upon to return to the stage — to my stage, The Joyce Theater — to perform a solo with Ronald K. Brown/EVIDENCE. It was daunting, as I am currently 57, with two prosthetic hips, and a cranky knee. But I thought to myself, what a powerful statement I could make to myself and others if I could find the courage to do it.
It was not easy, but I leaned into the story, and all of my lived experience. Pushing through the fatigue and occasional pain gave me such a sense of accomplishment that I found myself in tears after several of the rehearsals. It was like I had found a long-lost friend — in me.
Photograph by Jeenai Moon
for The New York Times
Danni Gee in Judith Jamison's Riverside
Photograph by Roy Volkmann · c. 1995
When it was finally time to perform, and the curtain went up, I felt 10 feet tall. My body shook with a vibration that I hadn't felt in a long time — that feeling that you are bringing your truest, most vulnerable yet powerful self to the moment, for all to see.
I danced not only for myself, but for my sisterfriend Toni Pierce-Sands, who lost her battle with cancer in the Fall of 2025 and for whom the solo was created. EVIDENCE was honoring her with the restaging of the solo. I danced for Ronald K. Brown — not just because he asked me, but because since he suffered his stroke in 2021, I am inspired every time I see him harnessing his power and taking more and more steps in his recovery.
"When the curtain went up, I felt 10 feet tall."
Danni GeeThere are so many things out of our control in this world that make us feel powerless. Overcoming my fears, my ego, and my pain — in order to return to the stage this year and share my story, my strength and resilience — left me feeling tremendous.
I went into the process feeling physically limited
but came away feeling limitless.
And powerful.