The Tapestry That is Rohene Ward

He glides to center ice, a ponytail pinning his curly, jet-black hair. It's January 2006.
 
He dons a suede black shirt with sheer sleeves. The borders between the fabrics are adorned with glistening rhinestones. His black pants flow into matching skates — everything hiding powerful muscles forged by years of jumping, falling and skating.
 
Thousands of eyes in St. Louis' Savvis Center are focused on him, including the judges'. The music begins -- Roy Buchanan's instrumental of "The Messiah Will Come Again" -- condensed to just within the short program's limits.
 
On the surface, Rohene Ward is mesmerizing. His body flows effortlessly to the music as though the song was tailored to his skating. After all, he choreographed the routine. But in his head, he's restricted — his movements caged by anxious thoughts.
 
Ward's movement progress into his first jump. His body sways with the rhythm and, like thousands of times in practice, he prepares to launch his body through the air. Only this time, he feels himself leaning too much into the quadruple toe loop.
 
Gravity wins.
 
Time doesn't stop when you're at center ice. Short-term memory loss is a must when you make a mistake.
 
Ward finishes the program proud and strong, as though the fall never happened.
 
* * *

Rohene Ward loves skating. More than anything in the world. It's his first love, and there's no replacing it. Skating gives him freedom. It's a form of expression rivaled by few others, except maybe his hair.
 
Yet the 2006 U.S. Figure Skating Championships marked the lowest point in his career. He finished in last place.
 
Fifteen years later, the thoughts don't haunt him. He didn't give them a chance. Life and figure skating are inseparably woven to form the tapestry that is Ward. Negative experiences are shrouded behind thousands of threads that represent why Ward loves the sport.
 
Now, he works as a coach and choreographer, instilling his impossible-to-perceive standards on his students. His methods are tried and tested ways to make sure everyone under his watchful eyes reach their potential.

Like his high hopes for his students, Ward himself aims to become the best choreographer in the world. He has been named choreographer of the year twice (2015, '17) by the Professional Skaters Association (PSA) and is the first Black member to accomplish this the landmark feat. His work with 2014 Olympian Jason Brown has also been recognized by the PSA as the best performances of the year in 2014 and 2020.

But Ward is one of a minority of Black figures within the world of figure skating. Though the sport tried to put him in its mold, he never allowed the pressure to force him out.

Fighting past barriers
 
Ward was born and raised in Minneapolis. A Black child raised in the inner-city projects, figure skating wasn't a sport most boys participated in.

Ward's parents weren't supportive of skating. He loved it more. Skating offered an escape, a safety net, he called it. He wanted the freedom it provided.
 
"Being the only one that looked like me in the rink, it made me want it even more," Ward said. "I want to be better than everybody for that reason."
 
He didn't need his parents to be present. His mom, Evelyn Harris, bought him his first skates from the Salvation Army. They were five sizes too large. She didn't provide much skating support beyond the initial investment.
 
However, he had his coaches. At first, there was Gailene Norwood. Ward says she nurtured him and provided him with what he couldn't afford. But his talent outgrew her coaching. She introduced Ward to Page Lipe. His next pillar, though he tried to avoid leaning on her too much.
 
"She's my second mom," Ward said of Lipe.
 
She shuttled him to and from practices and competitions. She devoted time to Ward that otherwise would have been spent with her family. A sobering sacrifice but one that was worth it.
 
There are many barriers to entry in a sport as freeing as skating.
 
Flesh-colored tights are more commonly found in limited shades. Those that do have darker tones are relatively new to the landscape. Still, if the skates, tights and any other part of their wardrobe stack the bills, the financial strain compounds further.
 
There are skate fees, coaching fees and travel expenses to burden parents. Then there's the time commitment of shuttling young skaters to competitions and practice.
 
Ward competed at a time where the sport tried to reject him. He was too different, and there wasn't a mold he fit in. But Rohene Ward wasn't born to be a carbon copy.
 
There are more cultural problems embedded in the struggles of advancing minority skaters through the sport's ranks. If the financial strains and time commitments don't funnel skaters out of the sport as the competition level increases, peer pressure plays a lasting role.
 
Ward never dealt with bullying because he was a figure skater. His attitude never allowed anyone to break his shell. And if people sneered, his talent would shine brighter. Growing up, he had the attention of newspapers and television crews. They would flock to cover the budding star.

But Ward is indifferent toward attitudes surrounding the progression of diversity within his sport. He's heard the chatter, witnessed the different standards and knows progress stalls at talking. Rarely is there an active push.
"It doesn't matter how diverse you try to make it it's not feasible for people to afford," Ward said.
 
It's why he's hopeful to continue collaborating with organizations dedicated to promoting diversity in the sport.

In March, Ward was shouted out by the Diversify Ice Foundation, a nonprofit organization constructed to promote diversity in figure skating. Joel Savary, Diversify Ice's founder, is happy Ward is interested in working with his foundation. Ward is happy to have an active role in promoting the cause.

Always dancing

Ward left competitive skating for the tour circuit, including a stint with Holiday on Ice and shows throughout Europe. If competing strained his love of skating, touring brought it back. There were no judges, no scores, only artistry. This setting helped Ward transition to his current career in chorography.

Ward is always dancing. His life moves to music, occasionally pausing for life's minutiae.

A skater and an empty rink are a blank canvas to Ward. When he choreographs a routine, he refuses to deviate from his process. A song needs to fit a skater. He can't choreograph for a skater if they don't relate to the song.

"If I don't feel the music, then I can't make anything special," Ward said.

The music creates what he feels. The choreography is his translation.

It's hard, Ward's brand of tough love. He makes sure each of his students is their best possible self. His process breeds perfection. Diamonds can't form without pressure.

Ward has choreographed Brown's routines since 2009. After more than 12 years, Brown can't identify a singular moment that stands out. However, there is one word that embodies thousands of memories: "Again."

When they train, Ward stands near the device that plays music over the rink's speakers. If Brown makes a mistake, Ward yells, "Again!" The music stops and Brown begins the program again.

It's why Brown relates to the 2004 movie Miracle.

Before Brown left for Las Vegas for the 2021 U.S. Figure Skating Championships, he teleconference Ward to show how much he improved his short program, Nina Simone's "Sinnerman," choreographed by Ward.

He almost expected "Again!" to break through the phone's speakers.

"I was more nervous with Rohene watching through Zoom than I was when I competed the program at nationals," Brown said.

But Ward's standards led to perfection. That pursuit bred groundbreaking routines, though Brown has no favorites.

"How can I compare 'Riverdance' to 'Sinnerman?'" Brown said.

Their shared passion for the artistic majesty of skating resonates deeply. And their combined determination to find the art within the sport has led to hardware.

With Ward watching from home in Chicago, Brown walked away from the 2021 Toyota U.S. Figure Skating Championships with the bronze medal. It's another collection in Brown's expanding trophy case. And as each of Ward's skaters, like Brown, succeed, it further cements his talent as an artist. Ward's students went on to win three medals at the U.S. Championships, with Isabelle Martins and Ryan Bedard earning the silver medal and Catherine Rivers and Timothy Chapman taking the pewter medal in the junior pairs event.

A bright future

Ward, who did not attend the senior competition, joined his junior skaters in Las Vegas for the 2021 U.S. Championships. Amid the up-and-coming young talent, Ward found the future.

Jacob Sanchez.

Ward was transfixed as he stood near the practice ice boards as the 13-year-old from Montgomery, New York, skated his short program to Kenny Loggins' "Footloose."

"He looks just like me when I was his age," Ward thought.

Ward was blown away by Sanchez's raw talent and believes the young Latino skater has the potential to be a force in the sport. When he ran into Sanchez and his coach, Oleg Makarov, Ward unleashed compliment after compliment.

Sanchez went on to win the short program and earn the junior men's pewter medal.

When he was a young competitor, Ward used to plead to the universe that minority skaters would one day get the spotlight they deserve.  

A smile stretched across his face as he recounted that memory.

The future of figure skating will be all right.