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player ready...Life has introduced more than a few difficult steps to Simply Destinee Dance Studio.
Sixteen years ago, the Aurora nonprofit was created by Martin Luna-Espinoza and his sister Liza Olivia in memory of her daughter Destinee, a Metea Valley High School student who died by suicide at age 16.
Since then this dance troupe has faced its own share of twists and turns that included a rocky start, financial challenges and multiple relocations. Yet this plucky dance organization always manages to stay on its feet, and in fact will be hosting, along with the city of Aurora, a candlelight vigil at 7 p.m. Thursday, Sept. 10, at Millennium Plaza in downtown Aurora to commemorate National Suicide Awareness Day.
According to a city of Aurora press release, Simply Destinee has impacted over 3,500 youth in Aurora, while putting on over 300 programs and dance events, even rising to national prominence in 2015 when it was chosen to take part in a commercial for the new season of “America’s Got Talent.”
Simply Destinee has managed to survive because of people in the Fox Valley who witnessed for themselves the impact this group has had on struggling kids. But the passion that keeps it going comes from co-founder Martin Luna-Espinoza, who has poured his heart, soul and no small amount of his own money into keeping the studio doors not only open but free to any young person who walks through them.
The ups and downs of this group that uses dance and life skills workshops to support the emotional well-being of youth have been chronicled in this column space for most of those 16 years for a reason: The issues surrounding mental health – depression, anxiety and suicidal ideations to name a few – impact all of us and are only growing, particularly among the younger generation.
“Music is our medicine but community is our power,” says Luna-Espinoza, noting that during the troupe’s twice-weekly gatherings, all cellphones “must be put away for those two hours so they can make face-to- face connections that evolve into lasting friendships and bonds.”
The community this has created, he adds, “allows us to stay prominent, visual and upfront.”
And it keeps former members coming back – as volunteers, to visit or to financially support this organization that helps young people develop skills needed to handle life’s many challenges.
That “taboo around suicide and depression” remains a tough nut to crack, Luna-Espinoza admits, noting that, despite “kids seeing it more and being more aware of it, they still don’t talk about it.”
Nor do local schools, says the dance troupe co-founder, who expressed frustration that its programs were in more than a dozen schools on the East Side alone but after the COVID-19 pandemic were all stopped.
Funding, including from the city, is not what it used to be, which forced this last move from the studio on Downer Place to Simply Destinee’s new home at Our Savior Lutheran Church in Aurora, where the group meets from 6-8 p.m. on Mondays and Wednesdays.
Still, the dance troupe has always enjoyed the backing of Aurora mayors “because suicide does not have a political aspect … it is not a boundary or ward problem, It does not discriminate,” Luna-Espinoza insists, pointing to five local suicides in the last week, including a child of 12.
That’s why he refuses to slow down, even after an infection a couple years ago led to the amputation of the toes on his left foot, which in turn cost him his nine-to-five job and the ability to physically work with the troupe. (Victor Bautista has been hired as the resident choreographer.)
“I don’t dance like I used to, but I still try,” says Luna-Espinoza, who uses humor as one way to cope with his many challenges. “I tell the kids I will always show up and put my best foot forward. … they laugh about it.”
And hopefully they learn from it. Luna-Espinoza, who describes himself as “differently abled,” views this physical hurdle as an opportunity to teach children there is value in appreciating the uniqueness that sets us all apart.
“The whole point for these dancers is to grow,” he insists. “We want them to go out and live life and learn, but know they can always come home here as a safe place.”