We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Ethan Raysor a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Alright, Ethan thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. We’d love to hear about when you first realized that you wanted to pursue a creative path professionally.
I’ve actually had this realization many times in my life, and every time I have had it, it’s brought me a new sense of confidence I never imagined having.
The very first time I knew I wanted to be a professional artist was in 8th grade, just after my 14th birthday. I had been trying my hardest to enjoy making music, as I had been studying music theory and the clarinet for about 6 years at that point, and I found myself uninterested in practicing the way I used to. I had just started taking dance classes at my middle school for a little over a year and I just had this instinctual urge that I NEEDED to pursue that more. I went from dancing twice a week for about an hour at school to dancing five times a week, including with a private tutor, James Zynda, who inspired me to follow my dreams of being a stage performer.
At that time I had sung in choir and loved acting and musical theatre, but ballet just kept calling me back, and thanks to Mr. Zynda, I was able to take it very seriously. Within four months of training I received my first full tuition and partial room and board scholarship to an 8 week summer intensive at Atlantic Contemporary Ballet Theatre (the school of Atlantic City Ballet). Phyllis Papa, the director of the school and company, took me under her wing that summer and allowed me to use the studio spaces well into the night, on the weekends, and even during lunch breaks. She helped me understand what level of professionalism I would need to be taken seriously, since I had less than a year of true ballet experience, but never discouraged me. It was the first time in my life I had ever been told I was “born” for something, and the feelings that came with that was no short of an epiphany.
Within two years I signed my first professional guesting contract, the role of Peter Pan in a local ballet studio in Delaware. By the time I graduated high school two years later, after my 18th birthday, I had three regional company contract offers, including Ballet Theatre of Maryland and Atlantic City Ballet. You could definitely say my love of classical ballet led me to my decision of signing with First State Ballet Theatre, but it was also the only contract I was offered that was a full company member (not apprentice/2nd company) AND was paid. It also allowed me to go to University of Delaware and Delaware Technical College’s SEED program and get my first year of an undergraduate degree completed. This was the next big break for me in terms of “knowing” I wanted to be an artist because my academic advisor asked me if I would be willing to give up my career to finish the 2 year (free) program at UD/DelTech, since I would be unable to meet my requirements with the ballet schedule I had despite the buildings only being blocks away from each other in Wilmington. I remember saying “no, I could never do that, I NEED to keep dancing,” and my advisor replied succinctly, “then you’re wasting your time. You can come back to school when you are ready. Ballet isn’t going to wait for you and I would be remiss in advising you otherwise.” It was the first time any academic advisor gave me that advice, and the butterflies in my stomach could not be stopped, nor could the yearning to continue the path I was on with ballet, because it was leading me to my destiny.
I danced with First State Ballet Theatre for 7 seasons, and during that time I had been diagnosed with hip dysplasia and had been in a pretty bad car accident that almost left my car totaled, and my joint pain worse. I also had an extremely unhealthy relationship with food that consistently left me with lower and lower energy. At the time, the love of my life married and later divorced me for an older man, and I was also performing as a drag queen in local bars throughout Philly, Wilmington, West Chester, and New Jersey, only adding to my level of exhaustion. Drag had become more of a focus for me than ballet had, not only because it was paying for my rent more than ballet was able to, but because it was the first time in my professional career that I felt truly free from the pressure of gender and sexual identity roles. Classical ballet is a very gendered art, and for those who express themselves differently, you often get put into boxes that are almost impossible to escape. Though drag alleviated some of that pressure, there were many factors that went into the five year hiatus from performing I took.
In 2019, after 7 seasons with FSBT, I decided to return to University of Delaware, full-time, and get my Bachelor’s degree in Plant Science. I was accepted within a week of applying and I took this as a sign that my burnout in ballet and performance was justified, and I could try to live a different life. Perhaps one that is more stable, one that could provide myself and my future family with financial stability, and one that didn’t require me to mask myself to be successful. Along the way I found my now husband, we collected a small family of three rescued pets, a house in Connecticut, as well as many life long friends I would never have met had I not tried being a “normal” person in a “normal” job for once.
Recently, in 2024, I had tried working for a few landscape design firms, garden centers, and even a farm specializing in organic microgreens. I knew I was missing out on part of my passion, but having the ability to finally afford life was a gratifying experience, even as it left me feeling diminished. I had seen some of my favorite artists live on stage, been to Disney World and Disneyland, and a half-dozen Broadway shows, all leaving me with the feeling that I am still missing something, even as I am having the time of my life. I had been fired, quite unfairly, from this organic farm due to my sexual orientation that the owners ultimately didn’t agree with. I was left in the middle of summer with no job, no job prospects that were viable, and a deep seated desire to crack open a part of me I thought had closed forever. Though I didn’t want to pursue ballet directly anymore, and I had picked up painting, landscape design, floral design, and mixed media art, I wanted nothing more than to be on stage again. I felt like I had sacrificed a huge part of me so I could try being someone else, anyone else, because I didn’t want to experience loss like I had. If it weren’t for my husband and one of my closest friends (who’s daughter I coached privately for dance competitions), I wouldn’t have had the courage to FULLY embrace who I am. I am an actor. I am a singer. I am a dancer. I am an artist. I create art for myself, and for others, but not to please. I create it authentically and give life to things people would never take a second look at.
At one point in my drag career, a “friend” told me that they had told another “friend” not to give me a wig of theirs that they wanted to throw out because “he’s going to take that mangy thing and make it look like gold. Do you really want him to upstage you again?” At the time I had taken it personally, and wondered why, in a community touted for acceptance, I felt very little of it. Now I know it’s because I am an alchemist, and people can be afraid of that— or jealous of it too.
Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.
I got into the performance and visual arts industry because I didn’t see another way for me to fit in. I was never told I was good at anything worthwhile until I committed to dance, to drag, to stage performance, to landscape design, floral arrangements, painting— essentially sculpting mundane things into something beautiful. I have talents across so many different disciplines of art, from dance, to music, acting, writing, drawing, painting, to designing. Many have critiqued me on being too spread out, but I have never let that stop me from individually mastering each skill and talent I have, and I am no where near being done yet.
I think the things I am most proud of is my authenticity, my ability to commit, and my acceptance of change. Don’t get me wrong, all the changes in my life have been terrifying, sometimes so scary I have tried hiding behind vices to avoid going bigger. But I have never let any of it stop me from proving to myself that I am worthy of love, and worthy of acceptance. Of course that has to come with criticism and flaws being revealed by malicious people from time to time, but my determination to prove I am who I know I am is what I hold dearest to me. I’ve been up, down, all around, but it hasn’t kept me from becoming who I am yet, and I am ready to continue proving that to myself every chance I get. I am doing things now like auditioning for Broadway musicals, movies, television shows, and so many other projects I would never have believed to be possible, and it’s solely because I found “me” amongst all of the negative projections that were put on to me since I was a child.
I want to be an advocate for the ADHD/neurodivergent, LGBTQ+, underrepresented, and creative communities while also continuing to participate in my own work— any sacrifice someone makes has to make them also feel good at the end of the day, and that includes activism. I thought by going into ecology and conservation through landscape design that I would finally be able to make the difference I dreamt ballet and performing could have given me, but I have realized the greatest thing I have to offer to the world is my full self, and every facet of myself. I am not “just” a dancer, “just” a pretty face, nor “just” a scientist. I am a human, I have feelings, and I deserve the right to express them as much as anyone else does— and so do you, reader.
If I make money off of it, that’s fine; if I get fame or notoriety because of it, that’s okay too. But what isn’t okay is not showing up fully because I am afraid of being perceived. No more hiding in shadows, behind masks and make up, and especially closets. I want to be seen and I want people to know they can be seen too, without modifying who you are to fit ANY box.
Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?
I had to unlearn that being “normal” is better than being myself. For most of my childhood I had undergone so much bullying from people in public school, church, even my own family. I thought to be safe I had to play it safe, play it comfortable for others, and I won’t be belittled anymore. It always made me depressed, and unfortunately I had no idea how to communicate my feelings about myself other than to self-harm. Because I didn’t want to be obviously harming myself where people would notice, I took very quiet ways to do so. I overworked myself all the time, whether spending as much time at ballet class/studios as possible, working on top of being active in school and ballet— I never let myself rest because I was worried I would have to acknowledge my feelings, and that would do me more harm. I stopped eating properly, only having a bowl of cereal, sometimes lunch from the cafeteria, and usually not eating dinner until 10pm when I got home from ballet. This continued into my adulthood, and unfortunately ganged up with other self-destructive behaviors, especially under peer pressure. I drank way more than I should have, got very little sleep, relied on cannabis to soothe what ibuprofen and caffeine weren’t able to, and all because I was afraid of being seen. I was afraid of expressing how sad, how anxious, how misunderstood, and how hurt I was my whole life. No wonder I burnt out from performing, I was performing every day and had been since I was 13, and it took me nearly 13 years to finally start breaking those walls down and let my inner child mourn things it had been stripped of. I allowed him to play, and experience art again through a new lens, one that wouldn’t make me out to be a dumb blond (yeah I am naturally a blond), one that wouldn’t call me stupid, arrogant, or ignorant because I was learning so much as I went and given little grace because I “should already know better.”
Well, now I know better. Now I know that showing up as ME, not someone or something else, is the best thing I could do. It’s the best way for me to live, and the best way to be an example for the next generation of queer artists to live. If I had been given the chance to love and accept myself when I was a young child and into my teenage years, I likely would have had a very different experience. However, I lived this one not only to find who I am, but to show younger people that see me in themselves to do the same.
Life is going to be scary no matter what, but being yourself will ALWAYS give you the best results, I promise. (They may not be the ones you intended, but it is better than trying to please people!)
What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?
Feeling, expressing, and seeing joy. Period. Send. Truly though, when I create, whether I am singing a song at an audition, filming a self-tape for a casting office, dancing in a zumba class, or drawing a new design, I feel so much joy. I use that joy to enhance my work, to infuse it with something people consider fleeting, but without it, hopeless. Expressing joy always makes one happy, that’s the point. I learned in high school, from my AP Literature teacher Mrs. Coburn, that “joy” and “happiness” are similar, one is actually more permanent than the other, and it is surprising which one is which. The whole class thought “joy” was temporary, fleeting, and “happiness” was long-lasting, atemporal, infinite. Imagine the shock when she whipped out example after example where she proved “joy” is actually the one that lasts forever, and “happiness,” “happy,” any iteration of it, is the feeling that comes and goes. I think a lot of the Millennial generation was brought up to believe that paradox because it would “help us” in the “real world,” little did we know that the “real world” is what we make of it, and making a joyous world through kindness and empathy is really the longest lasting feeling we are capable of. I never feel regret when I share joy, because I see the reaction when someone sees my joy. That reaction, the mirroring of joyous outburst, through applause, through kindness, through community, or through tears, is so incredibly powerful— and humbling. I never want to give up the ability to inspire joy in other people again, and I am fully committed to doing just that.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://electric-dragonfly-art.square.site/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/hausofray/profilecard/?igsh=MWxleGI1eTdyNjI3dg==
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/ethan-raysor?utm_source=share&utm_campaign=share_via&utm_content=profile&utm_medium=ios_app
- Youtube: https://youtube.com/@dj_delray27?si=RLuM3oRAWBoyzKdy
- Other: Links to my acting pages:
https://www.nycastings.com/EthanRaysorhttps://resumes.actorsaccess.com/ethanraysor
https://m.imdb.com/name/nm16654966/?ref_=ext_shr_lnk
@exhrays27
Image Credits
Tisa Dellevolpe
Stephen Hands
Rolando Olivas
Jamie Lynn Meyer
Ethan Raysor