MaKenzie Winters: Crowned With Purpose

Written by Shelby Tyre

Photographed by Darren Lykes & Bridgett Wright

MaKenzie Winters moves like she was born mid-performance — grace in her bones, purpose in every step. And somehow, the music’s only just begun.

Raised in Jackson, Tennessee, MaKenzie is quick to trace her roots through a childhood filled with motion — of the body, the spirit, the community that formed her before she even realized it. “I’ve played so many different sports growing up. And I went to church, so I had community all around me,” she said. She attended East Elementary, then Northeast Middle School, before enrolling in the Early College High program through Jackson State Community College. “If I was to describe what living in Jackson is like, it’s probably the people that I surround myself with that make it feel like home.”

From the very beginning, MaKenzie was learning choreography — sometimes in the form of drills or classroom routines, sometimes in the gentle cadence of Sunday morning services. But it was her mom who helped her find the rhythm of her own story. “If you could think of your biggest supporter, think bigger. That’s my mom,” she said. Whether it was driving her to practices, prepping with her for events,or sitting her down to choose between cheer and volleyball, her mom’s presence was both grounding and empowering. “She sees it in me, and she recognizes my talent, and she’s not scared to embrace that.

”If there’s one thing you should know about MaKenzie, it’s that dance has always been her throughline. She trained at Pat Brown School of Dancing, a studio that became more than just a practice space — it became a kind of foundation. It was there she learned the language of movement and, for the first time, saw herself reflected in it.

As a Black ballerina in a majority-white environment, MaKenzie had grown used to being the only one in the room who looked like her — until shemet Jennifer Whitelaw, a dancer and one of her instructors at Pat Brown.“She taught me for the first time when I was about ten, and I was so excited,” MaKenzie said. “It was just — seeing someone who looked like me, the passion was brought back into me.”

Jennifer wasn’t just an instructor — she was also the first Black girl to play Clara in The Nutcracker at Ballet Arts. Years later, MaKenzie followed in those footsteps, becoming the third. She would go on to play Clara twice, and during her second performance, Jennifer surprised her by showing up in the audience.

When I say unique, it’s just experiences like that that make it feel like, okay, I’m in the right place at the right time. I’m supposed to be here.”

It was more than a role — it was a step forward in claiming her place in a dance she’d long been part of. While ballet was her first language, pageantry came later — a different kind of stage, but no less demanding. “Miss Juneteenth Jackson was my first pageant, and I was blessed enough to be able to participate here locally.” MaKenzie won not only the crown, but also Best Talent, Best Essay, and Miss Congeniality. The experience lit a fire in her and gave her a powerful platform to stand on

“I get the platform to represent what Juneteenth is, and I get to tell people about it — who do know, who don’t know — and I can expose different people to it,” she said. That legacy of liberation, of voice, of visibility — it pulses in her like music.

She went on to win Miss Bronze, Miss Murfreesboro Teen Volunteer, and Miss Juneteenth USA 2024–2025. But through it all, her humility remained. Pageantry didn’t rewrite her; it simply gave her new choreography to move with confidence through the spaces she already belonged to.

She knows how easily people make assumptions, especially about pageant girls, but MaKenzie’s presence is quiet strength, not self-importance. “Mindset and my perspective were fully changed by that first pageant. Being able to do that one as my first, rather than jumping straight into the long-standing system — it was definitely something I needed to take baby steps into.” Her confidence is a reflection of how deeply she’s rooted. Her radiance never feels performative. It doesn’t come from ego or applause — it comes from alignment. From muscle memory. From that deep understanding that she is dancing in step with something bigger. This presence she brings, this grounded poise, is rooted in purpose — a purpose shaped by the community that raised her and the stages that held her. “Growing up in Jackson meant knowing who you are and who’s in your corner — and that kind of support never leaves you.”

“Her radiance never feels performative. It doesn’t come from ego or applause — it comes from alignment. From muscle memory. From that deep understanding that she is dancing in step with something bigger.”

The metaphorical crown she wears is heavy, and that’s on purpose. She carries it well, showing other girls, young artists, and dreamers that it can be done — with kindness and grace and love — all while holding the door open behind her.

MaKenzie’s platform centers around expanding access to the arts, especially for young Black creatives. “My platform promotes the arts with a specific emphasis on the performing arts as a way to infuse pride and accomplishment in young people and specifically minorities like myself who weren’t always exposed to the arts when we were kids.”

Her path forward is clear: finish school, dance professionally, pursue social work, and eventually open her own performing arts company — one that includes music, theater, and band. She’ll be taking the next step of that journey at Howard University, where she was recently accepted on a full scholarship. But, no matter where that future unfolds, her heart remains tethered to Jackson.

When asked what scares her most about the future, she answered without hesitation, “My ambition. I just want so much for myself and the people around me. I want to put myself out there and try new things and make a difference.”

It’s that hunger, and that self-awareness, that make her “made in Jackson” in the truest sense. The stages she’s stood on, the dance floors she’s trained on, the pageants she’s entered, the coloring books she’s passed out at summer camps, they’ve choreographed not just where she’s been but the grace and power with which she’ll go.

The music may change, the stages may grow, but the rhythm that shaped her will carry her through.