My feet are usually bare. Sometimes I wear socks, rarely sneakers. At times, ballet shoes - but only when required. My "uniform" varies depending on temperature, comfort, and accessibility. I wear the formalities of a leotard and tights, the exercise clothes, the baggy pants of my hip hop alter ego, the clothes I wore to school. I don't need a mirror. I don't need a studio. I don't need an instructor or a class. To dance, I need only my...

For me, Penn has always been a constant. My childhood and early adolescence were dotted with vivid stories of my mother's four lively years in University City. The campus visits for alumni events and tours were something to be cherished; I would once again get to walk Locust Walk, sit in the Quad, and peer into the ivy-covered buildings, hoping that one day I too would be a Quaker. Penn was a constant red-and-blue image in my brain, a constant...