HARPER WATTERS.
The professional ballet dancer and viral video sensation shares the things that make him proud.
After sharing a video of himself and a friend werk ing the treadmill in pink high heels, Harper found himself a viral video sensation. Here, he poses for an exclusive Gay Times photoshoot and shares all the things that make him proud to be part of the LGBTQ community.
Pride. It’s a word that means many different things to many different people. It could be the activism of our forebears that got us to the place we are today, it could be the ability to hold our partners hand in public, or it could even just be the fabulous outfits we wear to express who we are.
Here, viral video sensation and self-described ‘Queen Bee’ of the Houston Ballet, Harper Watters, shares the five things that makes him proud to be part of the LGBTQ community.
History.
As an African American out-and-proud classical ballet dancer, I’m well aware of the privilege I have simply just writing that last sentence. Every time I step onstage, but particularly during Pride, I carry with me the legacy of who came before me. I’ll never forget being forced by my parents to turn off an episode of the Real World to watch a New York City Ballet broadcast on TV. There I was thinking drama only existed on MTV, but when Albert Evans took to the stage I was so captivated by his performance. He had power, sass, strength, and confidence. I was so determined to be him one day. Dancers like Craig Hall and Eric Underwood taught me to not try and fit into a box, to not try and be someone else, but to embrace my uniqueness, capabilities, and potential. These men paved the way for me and gave me hope as a little boy sashaying around his room dreaming of being a dancer.
Activism.
When I went to my first Pride, the only strule I knew about was the strule I went through trying to find room in my scandalous outfit to fit my phone, keys and wallet. I couldn’t tell you about the meaning or importance behind Pride. I don’t think I even knew there was one. All I was focused on was a rainbow kiki with people who were like me. Today, I’m grateful for publications like Gay Times for highlighting queer stories, and Instagram accounts like @adameli and @them who educate and use their platform to shed light on socially marginalised groups of people who deserve to be heard and advocated for. I’ll be honest, sometimes certain topics are confusing or really intimidating. What I’m learning, though, is that visibility is everything, and it’s just as important to be seen as it is to be heard. I’m proof that there is no logic behind the cultural shame attached to either my skin colour or my sexuality. Sharing my life is my way of empowering by example. So whether it’s on the streets or on Instagram, it’s important to show up, show out, and assert to the world that we reject ludicrous opinions.
Family.
I was originally born in Atlanta, Georgia and at just two-weeks-old I was adopted by my parents. Both caucasian, I grew up in a biracial family in New Hampshire. Loving, supportive and accepting, my parents have always been my biest cheerleaders, which is something not every young queer child can say. As an only child, it was my greatest goal in life to have a younger sibling. While that never happened, I got my siblings later in life in the form of my chosen family. Cheesy, but it’s true.
Music.
Music is everything to me. It’s there for me when I need to work onstage, it’s there for me when I need to werk at a party, and it’s there for me when I need to express myself. Life with no music is like Charlie Hides lip-syncing against Trinity Taylor... real boring. We all need music. Sometimes that music is classical music, most of the time it’s Beyoncé. Lately, I’ve been non-stop listening to queer artists like Years & Years and Vincint. More so than the lyrics, I always seem to connect to the attitude these songs give me. It’s the most satisfying feeling when you discover an undeniable bop. Pride is that feeling. Never deny yourself the right to feel good, and always own what makes you dip it low.
Acceptance.
A couple of hours before I decided to come out to my parents, I was watching America’s Next Top Model. More shocking than the terrible ‘makeovers’ was the skill and glamazonian attitude of Miss Jay, the runway coach. He was like a creature. I remember my two best friends called me and I mentioned I was watching the show. Without missing a beat, my friend said, “Miss Jay reminds me so much of you, but you’re straight”. I paused and replied, “No I’m not, I’m gay”. It came out so calmly, but internally I felt like Beyoncé. It was freeing. That feeling motivated me to tell my parents. My dad teared up and my mom confessed, “I knew since you were two”. I’m very lucky to have an incredible support team and family dynamic that provided an environment where I felt like I could tell them who I am.