Skylar Fry on Almost Everything

Skylar you describe yourself as curious - such a great way to be. Curiosity leads us to have an open and non-judegmental mind which supports our learning and relationships with self and others. Can you tell us how your genuine curiosity has supported you in your learning and relationships as well as helping you to unpack the hard things in life like big feelings?
I think that curiosity is ingrained into every human being - it is this pure little seed of motivation that prompts us to live just for the sake of living, to try new things just for the sake of trying, and become the unique individuals that we are just because of where our little hearts lead us. But I also believe that as we grow up, we are confronted with a life that becomes structured and weighted by expectations, squeezing out much of that room to practice being curious. I believe that you have to practice it - being curious. It is a skill that, while somewhere inside of us, gets rusty and neglected.
I even see my own curiosity withering away at times when I am stressed, overworked, or tired. I start to feel as if I am in the passenger seat of my own life, controlled by deadlines and expectations, sacrificing any time to “explore” or take pleasure in the little amazements all around me. I forget how wonderful it is to simply have lungs that suck in air, this invisible life force all around us, filter it out, and send it coursing through the rest of my body. It is these moments when I realize that I have stopped approaching my relationships, work, and everyday with a sense of wonder. Asking questions, thirsting to know, and being willing to try is something that will take you farther in any relationship than “knowing” or having things “figured out” ever will. It is an approach that proves to be boundless in its application and timeless in its efficacy. Even taking 30 seconds to remind myself how special it is to move and live and breath reframes the day to day with curiosity and gratitude - I think the curiosity is the first step but the gratitude is the real nutrition.
One thing that I have struggled with recently is my direction, purpose, and confidence in the world of professional dance. I grew up in Southwest Florida where I trained in ballet. Then, I moved to Tucson, Arizona to study Dance and English at the University of Arizona, one of the highest regarded undergraduate dance degrees in the nation. I threw myself head first into a new big world and, in four years, walked away with a B.F.A. in Dance with honors, a B.A. in English with honors, a Pre-Law Minor, a Technical Writing Certificate, two Honors Theses, a study abroad experience, a multitude of performances and projects, a number of social and leadership connections, and so many incredible best friends. I was even selected as the School of Dance Outstanding Senior and later selected as the College of Fine Arts Outstanding Senior - I gave the keynote speech at our graduation in an unreal moment of gratitude and reflection! I even had a professional ballet and administration position lined up in New Jersey - I thought I had things figured out, at least for the time being.
But it all came crashing down when I stepped into the real world, found myself overworked and underpaid at a small (and suffocating) ballet company, far from my friends and family, and so isolated that I couldn’t see where I was going next in dance or life. It was terrifying when I realized that I had to completely reevaluate what I wanted in life, how to get it, and what aspects of my art I was truly drawn to - did I love dance or did I just think it was something I thought I had to do? I found myself wildly depressed and unhappy, unable to point a finger to what I needed, but knowing that something was wrong. I questioned my love of dance and performance art and I questioned myself. It was one of the first times where my well of creativity and curiosity ran dry - and that was the scariest part of all. I wasn’t interested in practicing curiosity and I was struggling to stay invested in gratitude.
I ended up choosing the daunting and uncharacteristic route - quitting my job and starting fresh as an artist in this big world, just trying to make it through each day and know myself a little better. At this time, things felt big - the world felt big, my own complex emotions felt big, and the gaping hole in my life plan felt like it might swallow me whole.
I remember one morning when I woke up with this overwhelming sense of, “I have to get to know myself all over again.” I took out a mini notebook (I have many of these just floating around at all times to catch my little floatie thoughts). I dated the page and wrote a simple fact about myself: “My favorite go-to shirt is a black long sleeve turtleneck.” I chuckled out loud. It was the first thing about myself that came to mind. Then, I wondered why something as simple as a black turtleneck could hold so much of my comfort and identity. Why was that the first thing I knew for certain about myself? I got curious. I suppose it is because I have some of my favorite memories rehearsing in a sleek black turtleneck, the contours of the shirt making my body feel longer and more explorative, emphasizing parts of me that have become part of who I am as a dancer. I love how it accents my long neck and my port de bras (how you move your arms). It’s the little things that make me feel at home and confident in myself. Under a baggy t-shirt for layering in a hip hop class or over a leotard with pink tights and a skirt for ballet, this shirt brings out pieces of me that just feel right. I have even worn this black turtleneck in some of my favorite pieces on stage.
Now, I wear that same black turtleneck all the time, paired with black pants and sneakers for my bartending job–that same job that is making me enough money to save up and move to New York, where I also dress in all black (tis the New Yorker fashion) and start dancing consistently again, on the road to figuring it out. When the question of “Who am I and what am I doing?” was too big to wrap my head around, I followed one string of curiosity - my attachment to this shirt - and discovered so many things about who I am already and who I might become. Curiosity in this way has always saved me from facing crushing struggles head on and helped me refine my intentions, see the light in gratitude, remain open-minded while dancing through this wild wild world..

Skylar you are wildly creative with incredible skills in dance, writing and music. Have you ever felt torn between creating and producing, being economically productive versus creating authentic and meaningful art? Or have you managed to bring these worlds together?
The short answer is absolutely. Absolutely to everything. I am torn between creating and producing every day and I am always toeing the line between being authentic and economically viable, painstakingly choosing to live in that sweet spot somewhere in the middle. I manage to bring the worlds together out of necessity but I am still caught in between these two sides in everything I do.
The harsh reality is that everyone loves art until you have to make time, space, and budget for it. Even me! I will often find myself craving a ticket to a show, just to sit in a room filled with music and creatives, just to deny myself the opportunity because I can’t afford a high ticket price. Is the show worth every penny? Probably. But can I always afford to spend all of those pennies? Usually not. And then it begs the question, what types of art will people pay for? They are not all created equal under the guise of economics. And does putting a price on art diminish the inherent value it already has? The answer is that I don’t know but I struggle with that every day.
And even as an artist, I am compelled first, to work with people on projects that I feel passionate about. But there comes a point when I have to pay rent and eat, too. Many people in the industry will offer you gigs or performance opportunities in exchange for “exposure.” While this sounds productive at first, it really means that you are working for free and as much as that would be so very kind, it can leave you on the streets in the snap of a finger.
The tough part is sifting through people’s intentions and making active decisions about where to put your time and money - because as a performer, your time, body, and energy are everything. And in some ways, rookie performers have to sacrifice their own boundaries or energy to invest in the industry first, before they have the renown to make their own rates, pursue their own creative visions, or name their own value. Already, to be a dancer, you have to be equipped with the minimum: a variety of outfits, costumes, high-dollar shoes, hair supplies, makeup, professional headshots, printed resumes, clean nails, and time to package all that up into a seamless appearance. The start up cost to call yourself a professional dancer (before you even get the job) is huge. After that, you are often commuting long distances to rehearse without compensation, or doing “favors” for friends and connections. But at what point is dancing for the sake of dancing, just taking advantage? I am still so fresh in the dance world that I will do a lot to make new connections or get time onstage, but I have started to develop a sense of when people are taking advantage of a hungry performer and when they actually value my skills.
I have found a wonderful balance of production and creation in a few collaborations - and for those opportunities and people, I am extremely grateful. I have one friend who comes to mind; he sometimes commissions me to choreograph and dance in music videos for the songs he writes. I have never met someone who believes in my vision alongside his own and actively asks me to provide input. We have a whole process surrounding the creation of a new video and we work together to determine the meaning, the feel, the style of dancing, the accents in the music, the venue, the filming style, the costumes, and even the editing. On top of that, he pays me well for my time, making me feel appreciated, valued, and even more invested in the work. And though the material cost is an important factor to consider, I still believe that the most important thing you can walk away with is a sense of community, connection, and value in what you do. That’s the real money that makes the world go round. You can find people invested in the people and process of creation, but it is rare with the fast-pace of our commercial art world today. That’s why, when you find it, you hold onto it!
You have ghost written a book on gut health, a fascinating topic with a lot of new research out about the impact of gut health on wellbeing, immunity and even personality. What did you learn through this collaboration and did it alter your lifestyle choices in any way?
Aside from dance, it is true that I love writing, namely for the way that it introduces me to so many topics outside from what I am exposed to in the studio. One of these amazing opportunities was when I ghost-wrote a gut health book for the wife of my longtime physical therapist - the couple is a powerhouse of health and wellness in Southwest Florida, and I was so honored to work with them over the course of two publications. The gut health book, “Listen to Your Gut,” by Jenni Berman opened my eyes to the deep science of wellness and nutrition - something that I had always been interested in, but never understood at such a deep level. Jenni’s goal was to share her own story and help others conquer their holistic wellbeing through their lifestyle and nutrition. Autoimmune diseases, pre-diabetes, chronic fatigue… you name it, it can probably be traced in some way to the health of your microbiome and internal functions.
I have always been very health conscious, even before that book, because my mom did a wonderful job of feeding me healthy and whole foods growing up (thanks mom!!). She was a wonderful cook and helped me enjoy a broad and varied diet of fruits and vegetables from a young age. On that note, however, I have always had a huge sweet tooth and struggle to control my lust for chocolate and ice cream all the time. The problem isn’t just that chocolate is my favorite food in the world, but that I know exactly what sweets and processed food does to your metabolism, hormones, and overall health. It can be tricky to find the balance between soul foods and foods that fuel my body for dancing and longevity, but I am always working on it. One thing I always try to remember is that your diet affects more than your physical body - it affects your energy, happiness, and stress hormones as well!
I think that another important step in my journey with health and wellness and food is recognizing that eating disorders are so prevalent in the dance world and constantly checking in with my brain, body, and soul, to understand myself better - intuitive eating is a practice that I try to pair with my knowledge of gut health in order to fine tune how I listen and respond to my body with love and compassion. A nutritionist in college really helped me with this one, combing through all the fad trends and diet culture crap in order to heal my relationship with food and keep my dancing body fueled and happy.
Though my relationship with food is sometimes tricky (because I feel like I know too much and think too much about it), I am also a huge foodie. I have written a food and culture magazine, have a dorky food instagram, and dream of being a food and travel writer someday. All of this love and strain with food creates this wonderfully complex arc of how I treat food in my life. But at the end of the day, I think it comes down to trying to be healthy while giving grace, enjoying food as a delicacy and something to be grateful for, and understanding that you are in control of your health in so many ways.

Skylar, you are a dance teacher also. Teaching is a collaborative partnership where both teacher and student are teacher and student. In Aotearoa we call this ako - to teach and to learn. How do you support your students to bring their voices , knowledge and authentic selves to your teaching exchange?
I love that - ako! It perfectly describes what it is like to be a teacher because I was surprised to find it the most humbling profession in the world. I not only teach dance to children ages 3 through adults, but also substitute teach at a local school (preK through middle school). I have also been tutoring ESL students who live in Korea, Taiwan, and China through a virtual mentoring platform since 2021 - all things I never could have forseen for myself when I set out in this life. I should have known that life would funnel me toward teaching when I would create my own summer school for my little brother at home every year…
Teaching dance particularly amazes me because it is a practice structured so differently than the classroom, and while I have learned so much from the “little ones,” whose creativity and energy are unbridled from an early age, my favorite demographic to work with in the studio is college-aged-kids and adults. From the little ones, I learn creativity and exploration just from watching them discover their own physicality in this world - but then, I work extra hard to bring this same freedom into a room with adults who have been conditioned to “do things right” and “perform correct technique,” and I push them to discover what they have within themselves beyond those preconceived notions. I guess, dance can get so comparison-driven so fast. We look in the mirror and try to achieve inhuman things (especially in ballet), forgetting that we are all built in different bodies and with different internal motivations for moving. Sometimes it is nice to walk into a room full of young and hungry college dancers and remind them to strive for exploration rather than perfection; for older adults, I love to watch them rediscover their bodies and all the amazing things that they can do when free from their daily routine.
When I first started teaching, I was nervous to ask for feedback live in the class - I thought that students wanted to be told what to do. And to an extent, they do rely on you for some sort of familiar structure, but in reality, each class is a gift for the students, and it is up to the teacher to provide a framework in which they can grow, ask questions, and train. It is important to constantly question things on both sides - I might challenge a student to articulate why they are having trouble with a particular step or what they are feeling. They might also ask me to explain something in a different way, stretching the limits of how I interact with material. It is this rubber band converstaion that happens through body language, physical signs, and verbal communication where we are all striving to be not only better, but stronger, smarter, and more in tune with our instruments. In this way, it remains fresh and personal for both the dancer and the teacher as we are all excavating a particular style of movement together, sharing what works, and sifting through what doesn’t. Teaching becomes so much more of a living beast when you approach it this way.

How have you seen dance impact women in your community?
The answer to this question could be a million miles long. I think that dance is inherently empowering because the practice of moving your body, supported by music and bringing out your internal rhythm just breeds confidence and connection. But while dance can be so empowering, the industry itself can be harsh and discriminatory.
I think the ways I have seen dance impact women in the most incredible ways are what I see in my female mentors. These are women who have this fire inside of them, an ambition but also a sensitivity to the state of the world and how we exist in it. That’s why they were amazing dancers - they could feel what cannot be put into words and make themselves into a conduit for messages that only the body can convey. There is so much quiet strength in this, and that is the type of power I value the most.
I think of a special ballet instructor from back home in Florida and remember how she can walk into any room and seem to glow in this halo of grace, peace, and poise. Without even opening her mouth or lifting her arms, there is this presence that makes everything feel a little more beautiful. She moved from Venezuela to the USA when she was a mere teenager, hoping to dance, and working like her life depended on it - and it did. She worked her way up to becoming one of the most beautiful principal ballerinas to grace the Miami City Ballet stage, and now carries on her gift of passion and incredible movement-quality to hundreds of students. Even watching her teach a ballet combination could bring me to tears because of her delicacy and reverence for the art of ballet. Then, to know her, you would find that she is even more kind, resilient, and compassionate on the inside.
I think of some of my college professors who worked their way through the New York dance scene, sleeping on couches, chasing a dream, and never letting go - no matter how many people told them they weren’t “good enough,” “skinny enough,” or “pretty enough.” It’s true - one of my favorite female professors was once turned down for a role because she was not “pretty enough.” A strong woman is not one who somehow avoids all of these horrible experiences but one who perseveres through them, never lets her eye slip from what she wants, and carries on to change the culture. That particular professor has taught me more about kindness, self-acceptance, and community building than anyone else, and I have so much respect for how she is forging new channels of connection and compassion in the dance world.
And as much as there still exists gender pay-gaps, discrimination, sexual harassment, and so many other horrible things targeting women in the dance world, there are incredible female leaders creating the dance world of tomorrow, and the only way to continue motivating these positive changes is to let their influence seep into people like you and me as we live the changes we want to see.

How has dance helped you to overcome one of your major life challenges?
Dance has both helped me overcome my life challenges and been a life challenge in itself. It is hard to constantly navigate being a dancer by profession because of how competitive and demanding it is - but at the same time, dance is the best thing on earth that stimulates me physically, mentally, and emotionally. It challenges me from my coordination to my musicality to my strength and endurance to my emotional maturity to my split-second decision-making to my sense of presence in the world to my creative visions. It has taught me a depth to life that I will always be grateful for.
Because it can be so consuming, dance has often been the place where I can put all the mundane stressors of life on hold and focus so hard on achieving a tricky step that I plummet into this flow state. It is where I look inward so deep that the noise of a crazy life starts to dim and I can find meditation in the concentration of taking class, creating a piece, or teaching a group of students. There is nothing more wonderful and healing than moving to music, especially when the music gets so loud it seems to fill up every part of you, and you become so lost in a visceral movement that you have transcended worldly limitations.
It is somewhere between this flow state of concentration and the art of play that the mind and body clear of stress and worry for me. I can have a terrible day and then sweat it all out and walk to my car after class feeling like a brand new person. I often feel more connected to my common sense, my own agency, and decision-making after a good class. Something - no, everything - about dancing just to dance can heal me like nothing else. If I cannot dance, or feel burnt out, I find similar releases in yoga and other somatic practices.
Skylar you are enthusiastic, which is a wonderful and refreshing way to be. Can you tell us more about your experience as a woman; a woman who is also an artist; a woman who is enthusiastic? Have you faced barriers, discrimination or had challenges to overcome that you shouldn’t have had to or have you found a way to navigate the world as your authentic self that works for you?
I would say that I have come to a point in life where I recognize that important and meaningful things are hard - you should just expect things to be challenging. And yet, you have to take risks, do hard things, and put yourself in positions that make you grow. Though I am a naturally smiley and energetic person, I push myself into environments that force myself to constantly problem solve. A teacher once told me repeatedly for about a year that succeeding in the dance world means “getting comfortable being uncomfortable.” (His name is Duncan Cooper, a wonderful mentor and choreographer for many students today). I hated learning that lesson, but found it to hold so much merit. You really do have to push life past your comfort zone in order to see what you are capable of and who you are when your limits are tested. And of course, I mean all of this within reason and safety. I think of this more in the sense of artistic boundaries. I may be all smiles and ready to work at the drop of a hat, but I am just as nervous to show my work, terrified to mess up on stage, and filled with just as many butterflies as anyone else. That kind of went on a tangent, but I guess what I am trying to say is that despite my enthusiasm and energy, I find that within myself, I am constantly working to broaden my experiences, pull myself out of the weeds, and make things happen - this takes an enormous amount of grit that most people don’t see or choose not to focus on because I am usually smiling all the way.
Enthusiasm such as mine can also be seen as “uppity” or “too much.” And while I am very understanding as a person, I am not always the most patient - I want to move and create and dance and work and do it NOW! This isn’t always everyone’s speed, and something that I constantly have to remind myself. Read the room and don’t be too over the top. I think that different people and situations pull different sides out of a person, so when I am in a crowd who feeds off of my energy, I let it run wild while at other times, I might have to hold back and present as a little more mature. It all comes down to knowing your tendencies and creating intentions about how to handle yourself in a certain environment.
Another important consideration with people (especially women) who are bright and eager is that you can easily be taken advantage of. People will take and take and take - and not even with mal-intent - just because that is the nature of life. I have had to learn how to set boundaries clearly for myself, my space, and my time. I always tried in the past to be available for everyone and everything all the time but it becomes draining and exhausting when you’re pulled in a million directions and trying to appease everyone. You can lose yourself in that space. And being a dancer, you never want to lose a coveted opportunity to rehearse or perform or take a job, but at the end of the day, the smart dancers are the ones who spend their time and energy sparingly and with clear intention. I constantly remind myself to work smarter not harder and to save that natural energy for people and places and work that fills my cup while also contributing to the world I love so much.

Is dance political for you or an expression of something meaningful to you that you want to communicate with the world?
For me, dance is political in the sense that it transcends politics. It can be something so individual and yet so universal, which is why I am always so drawn to it from the inside - a visceral pull to move within my own body - but also drawn to it externally to share in someone else’s rhythm. It is something you can spend your entire life crafting and honing but at the end of the day, dancing is just a human thing. We move and groove and shake and wiggle and jump and fall and run and wave our arms and use these bodies we have. We just do it.
I do find myself getting more invested in dance that is research driven and has a message because it feels bigger than me and the movement. Dance for the sake of dance and aesthetics is wonderful in its own sense, and quite freeing at time when your brain is working through a lot, but one of my favorite times to dance is for a purpose. For example, in undergrad at the University of Arizona, I had the opportunity to be a part of Ana Carolina Brotons’ creation of Autobody, a harrowing duet about choice and autonomy. For Ana, it was about a journey through a toxic relationship where she lost and regained control of her own mind, body, and choices. For me, it was about finding my strength and command of my life. It became a piece so cherished to me because the audience could invent their own stories and make it political or meaningful for themselves but each dancer could also connect to their own personal experiences. It was powerful - and it was still individual to everyone who came in contact with it. To this day, it might be my favorite piece to perform because of how elegantly Ana took something that was political and personal to her and wove it into a production that was entertaining, haunting, and impactful - even though it could mean different things to different viewers. That natural discrepancy in how we all perceive art is what makes it truly fun to perform for large, diverse audiences who all come away with slightly different, yet equally impactful experiences.

What do you want to say to other women seeking encouragement to be their best selves and live their best lives?
Living your “best life” doesn’t mean checking all the boxes or following what you see other people do. It is more of a mindset where you are able to work towards growth but also recognize the small ways in which you are already doing a great job; and as much as you might feel like you are on the up sometimes, you are inevitably going to slide back down sometimes, too. Make peace with the fact that life is big and broad and surprising and dynamic and unpredictable. Every time you feel low or lost, it is really just an opportunity to get to know yourself all over again. You’re never going to “get there” and live your best life perfectly because life isn’t linear and neither are we - thank gosh! Of course, this is all advice I am trying to take too - you have to let yourself come alive in the little moments because you really do get to determine what is important. We cannot alway steer the circumstances, but we can steer ourselves as the vehicle. And we can choose the soundtrack. Road bumps are just the texture of life and if you can appreciate setbacks for the learning opportunities that they are, you will realize that you are living your best life already.
Skylar you can speak fluently on so many topics infusing your writing with wisdom on the way. I love the way you are entirely honest and uplift women in the way you see and talk about them.