The Heart Behind the Work — Meet Dorian
We wanted to give our community a chance to get to know Dorian, not just as our new National Program Manager, but as the educator, professional dancer, and leader she’s become through every chapter of her journey. From the classroom to the stage to this new national role, Dorian’s story is filled with purpose, perseverance, and a whole lot of heart.
What follows is a real, unfiltered conversation about where she’s been, what’s shaped her, and what she hopes to bring to the future of this work.
Dorian never imagined she’d become a teacher. As she recalls her senior year at Ohio State, she laughs at how unexpected the path was. It started with a two-year commitment to Teach For America to gain leadership experience and figure out her next steps. But that “next” turned out to be right in front of her. Through after-school programs, substitute teaching, and some persuasive nudging from TFA recruiters, she found herself not just in the classroom but thriving in it. “It just clicked,” she remembers. “I realized teaching was a good fit. Even now, I haven’t really stopped. The content I teach just evolved.”
Teaching, for Dorian, is rarely about immediate rewards. But when those wins happen, they’re unforgettable. “Sometimes, it’s seeing a student finally grasp something that’s been hard for them. But more than that, it’s the trust. When they come to me for college applications, life advice, or just to talk, that’s everything.” It’s that deeper connection—beyond the curriculum—that makes the work feel so impactful and lasting.
She shows up for students so fully because someone once showed up for her. Dorian credits her sixth grade teacher, Ms. Ramilo, as someone she’ll never forget. Ms. Ramilo gave her extensions when she had dance rehearsals, saw her for who she was, and gave her the grace to succeed on her own terms. Then, in high school, her African American Studies teacher shifted her whole worldview. “She connected me to my history, my culture. It shaped my entire outlook.” Those early experiences showed her that education is more than just information—it’s also about permission: to dream, to pursue, to belong.
When asked what she hopes to pass on to her students, she answers without hesitation: perseverance. Especially in the arts, she explains, it’s a daily decision to keep going. “I remind them, if you can’t stop thinking about it, you have to keep doing it.” It’s a message born of personal experience. Dorian has faced barriers, biases, and burnout, but has chosen—every single day—to stay in the fight.
There are plenty of career paths out there that come with stability and benefits, but for Dorian, her path is rooted in something deeper. “I want to sleep at night,” she says plainly. Raised in a family that modeled service, she understands the power of pouring into the people around her. “None of us get here alone. My parents, my teachers, my community, they built me. How could I not pour back?” Even with a background that includes high-profile dance gigs and national stages, nothing compares to the look on a child’s face when they fall in love with dance.
Her favorite color, without question, is red. “It’s passion, it’s blood, it’s visibility. You can’t miss it when it walks in the room.” For Dorian, red reflects not just a preference, but a way of moving through the world—with boldness, energy, and a determination to make an impact.
One student moment stands out among the rest. Her school was facing closure, and she was feeling depleted, unsure of her future. Then, a sixth grader handed her a drawing of an ice cream cone, a dancer, and a handwritten message: “Go do what you love, Miss Cohen.” That simple, honest gesture shook her. “It wrecked me,” she says. “This little girl saw right through me. She gave me permission to pivot, to chase what I love—even when it was scary.”
The challenges in this work are real. In the dance world, it’s tough to separate self-worth from the gigs you book. “You put your heart into auditions, projects, but it’s not always about talent or effort. You have to believe you’re enough regardless.” In education, the struggle is about boundaries. “I can’t fix everything for everyone. My mom always reminds me: on the plane, you put your oxygen mask on first. Same thing here. If I don’t care for myself, I can’t show up for them.”
Now, as she steps into the role of National Program Manager, her excitement is grounded in one word: connection. She looks forward to working across cities, watching dance cultures evolve, and witnessing how they continue to unite people. Whether it’s footwork in Chicago or lite feet in New York, her mission is to nurture these movements, make sure they have the space to thrive, and remind young people—especially Black and Brown youth—that their art, their stories, and their communities matter. “Dance saved me. Community saved me. I just want to make sure the door stays open for the next kid.”
We couldn’t be more excited to have her leading the charge.