CARMEN GUYNN

INTRODUCTION
 

What is your name, and can you tell us a little about yourself and your passion as an artist?

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  My name is Carmen Guynn, I’m a the Founder, Owner, and Artistic Director of Almas Del Ritmo Dance Company.   I have  a deep passion for storytelling through movement. I specialize in salsa and bachata and other Latin dance styles. What began as a love for the dance itself quickly grew into a deeper connection to the history and culture behind it—especially its Afro-Latin roots. That passion led me to train professionally, teach, and use dance as a way to celebrate identity, heritage, and community, also to share awareness of Human Trafficking especially in the Black and Latin communities.  As an artist, I’m committed to creating spaces where people feel seen, empowered, and connected—whether through performance, education, or cultural expression.  

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Was there a specific moment when you first fell in love with the arts? What sparked that connection?

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  Yes, my love for the arts began with Latin dance—salsa and bachata in particular. I was captivated not only by the movement but also by the rich history and culture behind these dances, deeply rooted in Afro-Latin and Latin communities. That passion led me to train as a dance teacher, where I learned how these art forms carry stories, identity, and resilience. Through dance, I found a way to connect with my heritage and share that vibrant culture with others, which sparked my lifelong commitment to the arts.

 

What is your ultimate goal—not only as an artist, but as a woman?

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  My ultimate goal as an artist—and as a woman—is to create space for authentic, nuanced stories that honor the full humanity of Black and Afro-Latina women. I want to challenge stereotypes and open doors for voices that have too often been marginalized or misunderstood. Beyond the stage, my goal is to live and lead with vulnerability, courage, and empathy—showing that strength isn’t about being unbreakable, but about embracing all parts of ourselves. Ultimately, I hope to inspire others to see their own worth, to tell their own stories, and to build communities where everyone can be fully seen and heard.  

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 ARTIST + IDENTITY

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Do you identify with any of the characters you portray in the show? If so, how?

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 Yes, I definitely identify with several of the characters I portray in the show. Each woman holds a different truth, but there are pieces of me in all of them. Ayoka reflects my strength, determination and resilience.  Jasmine my softness and vulnerability, Dona Irena cultural pride, and fire and Isabella reflects my artistry, grace and dignity. What connects me most is their complexity — the way they carry both joy and pain, confidence and doubt. As a Black and Afro-Latina woman, I see myself in their struggles to be heard, to define themselves on their own terms, and to hold space in a world that often tries to shrink them. Bringing them to life has been both empowering and healing.  

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Why is it important for strong Black women to be seen, heard, and centered onstage?

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It’s important for Black women to be seen, heard, and centered onstage precisely because the phrase “strong Black woman” has been used in ways that flatten and limit who we are. While often meant as a compliment, the term can be dehumanizing — suggesting that Black women are always resilient, always able to carry burdens, and never in need of care, rest, or vulnerability. This stereotype is harmful because it silences emotional expression, discourages seeking help, and justifies neglect, especially in healthcare, education, and the workplace. Onstage, when Black women are truly centered — not as symbols of strength, but as full, complex individuals — it breaks down this narrative. It gives space for our softness, fear, joy, tenderness, and imperfection. It reminds audiences that we are not just a monolith or myth —  that we are human. By moving away from labels like “strong Black woman,” we allow room for more honest, diverse, and empowering stories that reflect the richness of their lived experiences.

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Why is it vital to tell Afro-Latina stories in theater? What does that visibility mean to you?

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Telling Afro-Latina stories in theater is vital because, like the trope of the “strong Black woman,” Afro-Latina identities are often flattened, misunderstood, or completely erased. Afro-Latina women live at the intersection of race, gender, and culture, and yet their stories are rarely centered — especially in mainstream narratives. Theater offers a powerful space to reclaim that visibility, not by reinforcing strength as a burden or expectation, but by allowing Afro-Latina women to be fully human. Visibility means more than just being seen — it means being understood in all our complexity: our softness, our struggles, our joy, and our contradictions.

 

For me, that visibility is personal. It pushes back against the silence and invisibility that so many Afro-Latinas have grown up with, in families, in media, and even in our own communities. It means breaking out of the narrow roles assigned to us and stepping into stories that reflect our full selves — language, lineage, body, and voice. Being onstage or seeing ourselves reflected onstage creates space for healing, for belonging, and for power that isn’t rooted in suffering alone, but in self-definition. That’s what representation should do — not just place us in the frame, but let us own the narrative.

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 CHARACTER & PROCESS

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This piece asks you to embody multiple voices. How did you find the emotional through-line between the characters?

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  Embodying multiple voices in this piece challenged me to dig deep and find what emotionally connects these women beneath their surface differences. I focused on the shared undercurrents — their fight to be seen, their longing to be understood, and their resilience in the face of being silenced or misrepresented. Even though each character has her own rhythm, background, and personality, they are all navigating identity, womanhood, and cultural weight in deeply personal ways. I found the through-line by honoring their individual truths while recognizing the collective power in their voices. At the core, they’re all asking to be heard — fully and without apology — and that’s what guided me emotionally from one to the next.  

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Which character do you feel pushed you the most as an actress?

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 Both Ayoka and Jasmine pushed me as an actress, but Ayoka challenged me on a deeply personal, cultural, and ancestral level. Stepping into her story meant confronting the complex legacy carried by Black women — the struggle, the pride, the inherited trauma, and the constant fight to be seen and valued. Ayoka gave voice to the pain, the abuse, and the dehumanization that Black women have historically endured — but she also carried our joy, our resilience, our sacred wisdom, and our fire. Portraying her wasn’t just about acting — it was about honoring a collective truth. I felt a responsibility to bring justice to her voice, to embody the strength and vulnerability that lives in so many women who look like me, and to ensure that her story was told with care, dignity, and power.  Jasmine, on the other hand, challenged me in a way that was unexpected and deeply moving. Portraying a woman with an intellectual disability required me to shift completely — not only in my physicality, but in my emotional approach. Jasmine’s world is different, but her humanity is just as full. She taught me about innocence, trust, and the purest forms of joy and connection. I had to strip away judgment, slow down, and simply be with her. What moved me most about Jasmine was how she reminded me that softness is strength, and that even those who are often overlooked have something powerful to teach us. Her character stayed with me long after the performance — and that’s the mark of a truly transformative role.

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Together, Ayoka and Jasmine stretched me as an artist and as a woman. They reminded me that storytelling, when done with truth and care, can be a radical act of empathy, healing, and visibility. 

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Is there a particular scene or moment in the show that always moves you? Why?

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One scene that always moves me deeply features Isabella De La Cruz, a Broadway legend now in her 80s. Her character embodies the bittersweet reality of having achieved great fame but feeling overlooked and forgotten as time passes. Despite that, Isabella still carries so much heart and passion — she has so much more to give. That moment hits close to home for me. As a have had almost 30 years as a Latin dancer , performer and teacher, I know the hard work it takes and sometimes the feeling of not having the support or recognition you deserve. Seeing Isabella’s strength and vulnerability reminds me of the importance of perseverance, honoring those who came before, and fighting for the respect and space all artists deserve, no matter their age or stage in their career.  

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 THEMES & IMPACT

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What message do your characters bring to the audience?

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 Each of the characters I portray brings a unique message, but together they speak to the power of truth, identity, and self-definition. They challenge the audience to look beyond stereotypes and really listen to the lived experiences of Black and Afro-Latina women. Whether it’s through vulnerability, strength, joy, or pain, these women demand to be seen as whole people — not just roles or labels. Their stories invite the audience to reflect, to question, and hopefully, to expand their understanding of what it means to exist at the intersection of race, culture, and womanhood.  

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The show speaks of justice, pain, joy, healing, and being seen… How does it speak to this cultural moment?

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 This show resonates deeply with the times we’re living in because it reflects both the urgency and the hope within our communities. We’re still in a cultural moment where Black and Afro-Latina women are fighting to be acknowledged in their full humanity — not just noticed, but truly valued. The piece weaves together themes of justice, sorrow, celebration, and restoration in a way that feels incredibly timely. It speaks to the emotional weight we carry, but also the joy and pride we hold onto as acts of resistance. It doesn’t just call for change — it creates space for reflection, healing, and reimagining what equity and visibility can look like when our stories are finally told on our own terms.  

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What would you say to someone who feels their story has never been told on stage?

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 I would say: your story matters more than you know — and it deserves to be told. If you haven’t seen it on stage yet, that doesn’t mean it’s not worthy — it means the space hasn’t been made yet, and maybe you’re the one who will help create it. So many of us have grown up feeling invisible or like our voices weren’t part of the narrative. But the truth is, the stage needs your perspective. Your experiences, your culture, your truth — they can inspire, challenge, and heal others. Don’t wait for permission. Lean into your story. Tell it boldly. There is power in being the first, and there is legacy in making room for those who come after you.  

 

 LEGACY & ARTISTRY

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How do you hope this production contributes to the legacy of Black and Afro-Latina women in American theater?

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I hope this production expands the legacy of Black and Afro-Latina women in American theater by challenging the narrow idea of what it means to be “strong.” For myself portraying four very dynamic and distinct Black and Afro-Latina women, I aim to show the depth, complexity, and humanity often overlooked. My hope is that audiences rethink their assumptions and see us beyond stereotypes — as multifaceted individuals with diverse stories. This visibility isn’t just representation; it’s about owning our narratives and claiming space on our own terms.  

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What’s a moment in rehearsal or performance when you felt the power of what you were doing?

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  One of the most powerful moments for me was when each of my characters began to come alive through their monologues. In those moments, I could fully feel their unique stories, emotions, and voices — from their struggles and pain to their joy and resilience. Each monologue revealed a different side of Black and Afro-Latina womanhood, reminding me of the complexity and depth we carry. It was a clear reminder that every story deserves to be told honestly and that each voice holds its own power and significance.  

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In your own words, what is the heartbeat of We Are The Whole Cast?

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 The heartbeat of We Are The Whole Cast is about reclaiming our full humanity and demanding to be seen and heard beyond stereotypes. It’s a celebration of the diverse, complex experiences of Black and Afro-Latina women — their struggles, joys, pain, and healing. At its core, the show is a powerful reminder that we are not defined by limiting labels or singular narratives, but by the richness of our stories, voices, and identities. It’s an urgent call for empathy, justice, and true representation, inviting audiences to witness us in all our complexity and fullness.