I realized I forgot to do a picture of the week last week, so here is one for your viewing pleasure:
Yes, this is a picture of the ever-handsome Husband on our weekend getaway trip to Ephraim. ... ... ... :)
Ever since I first watched the video mom got from the library of
The Lord of Dance, (mock me if you will, but I have a multitude of reasons) I knew a dancer was what I wanted to be when I grew up. Not professionally, but permanently.
I started dancing when I was eight years old, and for a girl with dreams of becoming really really good - eight years old was getting a late start. Most professional dancers are dancing when they are four. But I didn't want to be professional, I just wanted to do it and love it forever. Unfortunately, I had many roadblocks. I started dancing with clogging - not ballet or jazz - and so I never was flexible. Plus, I was much older than the other girls in my classes. I didn't let this bug me, though, and I pushed to be the best dancer on the team. My hard work was rewarded. In one year, I moved up two levels, and the next was bumped up to another. I was now in the middle of the age group for my team, but since I had started late, was not close like the other girls were. I still worked my hardest to be the best on my team, and was very rarely acknowledged for my hard work. I always stood in the back, in truth because I was so tall, but for my teenager self - I was convinced it was because I wasn't as good.
I remember vividly when my dance teacher told me that if I wanted to go anywhere with musical theatre, I needed to have experience with other types of dance - ballet or jazz. I had taken ballet over a summer previous and *thought* I hated it, so I quit clogging and got enrolled in a jazz class. Once again, I was much older than the other girls. However, this time instead of being eight in a class of six-year olds, I was 15 in a class of eight-year olds. It was very demoralizing. Resolving to not let my age defeat me, I pushed myself harder than ever and the next year was in a class with 14-year olds. Much more acceptable - though still not where I wanted to be. But I was stuck. No matter how hard I tried, I was not improving. I was able to make one friend in my class of 12 girls, and she would always pair up with me as we worked on across-the-floor combinations and encourage my efforts. Unfortunately, while she was short, I was still one of the tallest in the class and so sent to the back for performance routines.
Imprinted on my mind is the only time another girl in the class acknowledged me. We were working fouettes, and I though I was consist at getting four or five in a row, I made it to eight - with a clean landing to end it off. One of the girls turned to the teacher and said, "Wow. She really worked hard on those this summer. She did those really good." It was one of the few moments I ever felt proud of myself in that class.
I had great instructors, don't get me wrong. They are all very talented and fantastic dancers themselves. In my young years, I wanted nothing more than to be just like them - flexible & amazing dancers, skilled in all areas of style and technique. But I felt like I was never good enough. The only times my teachers talked to me in the studio was to tell me what I needed to improve on. I was the only girl in class that consistently remembered all the steps to the routine learned the week before. I was the only girl in class that knew the counts and stayed on beat throughout the rehearsal process. I was never late. But all the acknowledgement I received from my instructors was what I needed to improve on - I needed to get my splits all the way or I needed to spot faster. I left high school feeling as though dance was something I loved, but could never succeed at.
I started my first year at Snow College. I was asked to come back to the junior high in Vernal to help choreograph one of their shows. I had done one for them while I was still in high school, but was shocked when asked to come back and do it again. I accepted with excitement and worked hard to make it great. I took ballroom classes at Snow - something I had never done before, but had developed a passion for while watching ABC's Dancing with the Stars (more mocking, I know). I found out that I was pretty good at ballroom dancing, and continued to take classes. The next year, Snow started a ballroom dance company. I auditioned, made it, and became one of two main choreographers of the dances for the entire team. Not only that, but since I was taking four other dance classes at the same time - I led the stretching/warm-ups every day for the team. It was wonderful. The director of the musical found out that I was choreographing for ballroom, and asked me to choreograph the college's production of West Side Story. It was one of the most challenging experiences to choreograph the show as well as be in it (Maria), but definitely one of my favorite experiences ever. It was a blast.
Since Snow, I have only taken two dance classes - something that has broken my heart to have to stop doing consistently. It was awesome and sucky to watch husband take dance classes last year - and compete with them. I was so grateful he was doing it, but I was so sad that I could not join him. The same has been true this year. Being so close to the end of my schooling, I have too many required classes and my credit limit is full. I cannot take any more dance classes from the university. I have been afraid to look elsewhere in case I am, once again, too old.
Recently, however, I have started volunteering at a high school. I teach dance after school to any and all students that want to stay. We are going to do anything and everything - in fact, I'm looking forward to bringing in other people that I can learn from, too.
Breakdancing, anyone? I have finally found a way to have dance be a major part of my life again and it's something I look forward to every day.
I guess the point is to say that there were two ways I could have looked at this situation.
1. I was given a talent, a time to use it, and now it's time to move on and appreciate that talent in others.
OR
While still appreciating that talent in others - and accepting the fact that my dance potential won't go quite as far as I'd once imagined - I'm doing all I can with dance now and in the future. I am going to fight to keep dancing as long as I can. I am going to volunteer to teach, and ask to be taught when necessary. I am going to offer myself and my talents to whomever needs them and be willing to sacrifice to make it happen.
Though my "dreams" may not be fulfilled - I'll never be picked as a soloist for a dance team, I'll never be a pro on Dancing with the Stars, heck - I'll never even be a guest performer. I have developed a talent that I love and that I am passionate about. I have created an ability within myself to feel emotion through music & movement and I can share that love with others.
I love dancing. I want to dance. I am going to dance.
I hope you do, too.
