Before The Second Mountain

I grew up in the South, speaking through movement before I fully had the words for it. Dance took me further than I ever imagined — training at the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater and the Debbie Allen Dance Academy, performing at the LIDO de Paris and in Disneyland Paris's Festival of the Lion King, dancing with Norwegian Cruise Lines, and stepping onto film and television sets including Queen & Slim, BOLDEN, and BET's College Hill. Along the way came titles and honors I still hold with gratitude, among them Mr. United States 2016 and the City of Baton Rouge's Dr. MLK Jr. Leadership Award.


But performance was only ever half of it. I founded MOKA XLR-8, taught English and dance in Louisiana classrooms, directed arts and youth programs, and worked on reparations research at UCLA's Bunche Center — because artistry and responsibility have always shared the same breath for me. These days I'm living what I think of as a second mountain: a quieter, faith-grounded season shaped by prayer, healing, and honest reflection. I still choreograph, coach, consult, and speak, but I hold the work differently now — less about applause, and more about being useful to the people I walk beside.

Beyond The Stage

My life has never fit inside a single spotlight. I founded and led a nationally recognized dance and cheer association, directed youth and arts nonprofits, earned a summa cum laude degree in political science, and helped shape reparations research and policy in California. Service and scholarship have always run alongside the art, and they still shape how I show up today.

A Second Season

For years I chased visibility, and I'm grateful for where it took me. Then a quieter voice asked for something deeper. This season is shaped by faith, prayer, and honest self-inquiry — less about proving myself, more about alignment and peace. My work now lives where movement, story, and soul-work meet, and I walk beside others feeling that same pull inward.

Learn, Teach, Grow

Three words guide everything I do. I stay a student of my craft and my faith. I teach what I've been given, in studios, classrooms, and rooms full of strangers. And I try to grow — as an artist, a leader, and a man — trusting that each project is another chance to practice presence.