Today we’d like to introduce you to Nahyr Galaz Ruiz.
Hi Nahyr, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
I was born in Querérataro, Mexico and I was brought to the United States when I was about five years old. I didn’t speak a word of English unless you count the little nursery rhyme “Pollito; Chicken. Gallina; Hen. Gallo; Rooster. Y Pluma; Pen.” I was very homesick, shy, and scared and the circumstances surrounding my arrival had been traumatic. I had been kidnapped by a family member and separated from my mother and immediate family. But that’s another story for another day.
Two things were my saving grace; my teacher Mrs. McDonald who was a kind-hearted, bilingual godsend, and television. When I felt down or missing my family overwhelmed me, I watched cartoons. I basically learned to speak English by watching Bugs Bunny. I was close to my early teens when it dawned on me that “maroon” and “embezzlement” weren’t the insults I’d been led to believe. I also read everything I could get my hands on. Books, Cartoons, and Novelas shaped my childhood and my young adulthood; I read everything from Ramona Quimby and Encyclopedia Brown to The Little Prince, Pride & Prejudice, and Like Water for Chocolate. I watched “The Animaniacs” religiously and was a quintessential “novelera.” “La Usurpadora” and “Corazón Salvaje” are the best novels of all time and no one can convince me otherwise. Movies were also a big part of my life; we didn’t have an abundance of disposable income, so we’d rent old movies from a local independent movie rental store. My first introductions to the film were Cantinflas’ classics, “El Barrendero,” “El Patrullero 777,” “El Bolero de Ravel,” and other Mexican classics such as “Tizoc.”
As I got older, I was introduced to the Disney classics that had existed in the zeitgeist for many years. I soon realized when I went to the cinema with my family that my reaction to films, the swell I felt in my heart as I fell deeper into the stories or became swept up in the characters… it was very different from theirs. They enjoyed the films, but I felt drawn to them. I didn’t realize at the time that this was my calling, but I did. I had a heart for storytelling. My teachers picked up on my knack for writing pretty early on. My earliest memory is from the second grade when I rewrote “The Little Mermaid” because I wanted her to be Latina, and I wanted her to care more about saving her ocean home than marrying some prince. Sorry, Prince Eric, it’s not personal. My teacher loved my story and unbeknownst to me, submitted it to a writing contest in our city in which I won second place in the district. It wasn’t the first or the last time that a teacher commented on my way with words or encouraged my voice as a writer. But I doubted myself The same way I was encouraged as an actress. I was told time and again that I was a very honest and authentic actress. But I doubted myself. I once attended a writer’s conference for Latinas where I met this woman who was one of the panel speakers, and when I asked her about pursuing a writing career, she responded candidly, “You keep looking for permission to write. Just write!” Her words imprinted on me.
My journey in this art form has not been a linear one or a conventional one. I studied dance and choreography as an undergrad and minored in Acting in Fresno, where I was engrained in the local Latine arts scene as a salsa dancer, member of the Grupo Dramático Alejandro Glusmán theatre troupe, and director of the dance committee for Arte America. I knew, however, that I needed to move to Los Angeles if I wanted to grow as an artist, so I transferred down to LA. Shortly after graduating, I landed a job working for the National Association of Latino Independent Producers in a combination membership coordinator and programs producer-type role, where my love for filmmaking was reawakened. It was also during my time at NALIP that I learned how much of producing I already understood as a self-produced choreographer and learned on the job the producing aspects that are exclusive to filmmaking. Life had other plans for me and motherhood put the brakes on my professional aspirations. I’ve never been very good at sitting still, however, and during my hiatus, I founded a non-profit dance company. As Artistic Director, I explored the juxtaposition between the abstract nature of contemporary modern dance and my affinity for visual narrative. I found driven by the intersection between dance and theatre. When life once again had other plans for me, and I had to close my company, I found myself writing and P.A.-ing on indie sets. It was like getting reacquainted with an old friend.
Timing is everything and after a few years, I found my way back to school, where the encouragement of my mentors and professors led me to pursue directing and acting in addition to my writing focus. In addition to the opportunity to write, direct, act, and produce student projects, I was fortunate enough to be offered professional opportunities as an actress and line producer as I finished my M.F.A. in Screenwriting and Directing.
Since then, I have embraced the multi-hyphenate nature of my artistry. I have produced for others as well as my own projects; I have had the opportunity to direct my own stories and have been brought onto others; I have been asked to choreograph and had the opportunity to rekindle that love; I have been given the opportunity to develop my craft as an actress, and to bring my stories to life. I have also been fortunate enough to see my work resonate with audiences and have received awards for my writing, my performances, directing, and even my newest endeavor; original songs.
I recently returned from a script development program in Toronto and I realized that, while it’s only my second year and second script at the program, the little imposter syndrome voice that makes me question whether I have earned my seat in the room is a fraction of the volume that it used to be. I don’t know that I’ll ever be completely rid of the imposter syndrome; it seems to be intricately interwoven with the Latine immigrant experience, but I’ve come to see it for the unreliable narrator that it is.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
I don’t think I can even picture what a smooth road looks like for any destination worth arriving at. Anything worth having takes struggle, takes a bit of pain; takes perseverance. If it comes easy, where’s the growth in it? Especially art. Art has to cost us something; that’s what connects us to it.
Aside from the obvious struggles of language disadvantage and socioeconomic disadvantage, I also faced other challenges. Some of these challenges were external, and some internal.
Being a first-generation college graduate, I found myself in the precarious position of having to defend carving a career in a field that isn’t considered stable or even viable. There was always this tug of war between what was sensible and what was brave. Some of the moments in my nonlinear career trajectory that took me away from dance or film are attributed to those moments where I succumbed to the pressure of pragmatism. Yet I don’t regret those choices. Each choice provided me with an opportunity to learn a skill, a lesson, or stories to mine from, Parenthood was another challenge unto itself. Parenthood stretches you to your limits and remolds you in the most beautiful of ways. While it adds new layers of complexity to your identity, parenthood also has a way of making you turn the lens in on yourself and reframe your perspective. Nothing makes you confront your flaws, where there’s room or necessity for growth, and prioritize what really matters to you like the responsibility of raising a small human. It was the moment that I became a mother to our firstborn that I decided to found my dance company. I looked at the tiny human in my arms and I thought, “How am I supposed to tell my daughter that she can be anything she wants, that she can go for her dreams if I don’t have the courage to do so myself?” And any time I’ve thought about giving up, I’ve remembered that I’m their example.
On the subject of self-imposed or internal challenges; that’s where the self-doubt and imposter syndrome live. The pressure to be “enough.” “Good enough,” “Pretty enough,” “Thin enough,” “Commercial enough,” “Latina enough…” Especially as someone who is a white-passing Latina, I’ve faced some pretty astoundingly racist comments. People don’t realize I’m Latina or an immigrant because I don’t “sound Mexican” (whatever that means), and I don’t look “Latina.” But I also realize how lucky I am. I’ve learned to see this as my superpower; I have a unique ability to bridge the gap between our cultura, our Latinidad, and mainstream America. But these experiences and these obstacles were necessary in the shaping of my character as well as in leading to my discovery of my why in filmmaking.
Being an immigrant kid, being a mother, and having the desire to set an example for my kids, as well as being told I don’t “look” or “sound” Latina opened my eyes to the dire need for Latine representation in film and television. My experience in non-artistic fields and positions helped me unearth my passion for raising Latine talent in film as well as see the impact when inclusivity and equity aren’t at the forefront of the hiring process.
When I was younger, I saw these speedbumps in my journey as holding me back or slowing me down, but now I realize that these challenges enriched my perspective and informed my voice.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
As I mentioned, I’m a multi-hyphenate filmmaker. I’m a writer/director/producer/actress. I’m known for infusing my bi-cultural identity into my stories whether subtly or more overtly. I also am known for my unique perspective as a storyteller. You can often find me writing stories of impossible romance that explore philosophical concepts in the framework of falling in love or exploring identity within the framework of generational trauma sprinkled with hints of magical realism.
So far, I am very proud that my short films have garnered awards recognizing my work and the work of my amazing cast and talented crew with whom I’ve had the privilege to collaborate. I’m proud to say that my scripts have been selected for the Script Development Program at the Female Eye Film Festival in Toronto two years in a row and my most recent short film, “Platonic Love” is having its Orange County premiere at the Old Towne Film Festival in September.
I don’t know if this ‘sets me apart from others’ per se, but I don’t know how to be inauthentic. Almost to a detriment. There’s a side of Hollywood that requires a certain level of putting on a smile and playing the part. And while I am a good actress, my acting, like my writing, comes from a place of vulnerability and truth. I don’t know how to pretend; it’s not in my nature. I believe that art is the vehicle by which we convey truth and that as artists, we carry the responsibility to be truthful. To reflect the lens on society and remind us of our common humanity.
Can you talk to us about how you think about risk?
I definitely am more of a risk-taker. My husband is more risk-averse, and he teases that I tend to jump without a parachute. I personally feel it depends on what I’m taking a risk with. In the film, I think it’s important to take risks within reason; especially as your discovering your storytelling voice. You’re not going to find it by playing it safe. Only by taking risks will you learn what works and what doesn’t. In writing, I’m all for taking risks. There are very minimal consequences if you take risks on the page. Just look at Christopher Nolan, talk about an example for risk-taking in production as well as in the script. But we can’t get there in our art if we’re not incorporating this notion into the development of our craft.
And isn’t risk-taking inherently human? Do we really live if we’re not taking risks however big or small. So much of the romantic notion surrounding following your heart implies taking a risk. Following your heart often means following it to the unknown. The parallel notion of ‘go after your dreams,’ is also rooted in taking a risk. Marriage is a risk. A risk is anything where a guarantee doesn’t exist and there are no guarantees in life. So, whether we’re more cautious and strategic with our risk-taking or whether we’re more laissez-faire; life is risk.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.nahyrgalazruiz.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nahyrgalazruiz/
Image Credits
Personal Photo: Photography by Stephanie Siomara Additional Photos: 1st photo with purple tutu skirt: Photography by Steve Escarcega
