dance_write3

Pique arabesque, turn, leap, pirouette, fan kick. These words have been burned into my memory. No matter how hard I could try, I would never be able to ignore them if music starts. Dance is my life, I can never stop thinking about it. The way it lets you move and connect with the music, hearing nothing else but the sweet melody. It wraps you up in the wonder, the passion, and the pure mystery of its reaches. If everyone danced, then, in my eyes, it would be a perfect world.
I started dance when I was three. As almost all dancers do, I started in a beginning ballet class. I went through that for three years, but all I can remember about it is it was incredibly boring. My mother wanted me to continue in some form, so we looked around for dance classes. We found a small studio called the Portland Dance Academy. The discovery of that school changed my life. I enrolled in a Level 1 Jazz class, which, unfortunately, was already in session. I joined in the Winter Term, thusly not knowing anything, unlike the older girls in my class. Being only six, I was the smallest, shortest person in the class. I did catch on quickly however and began to enjoy my classes, looking forward to the next one.
I moved up in the ranks and went to Jazz 2-3, a split class. Half of the people in this group were older than I was, so again, I had to work to learn the steps as quickly as they did. The next year, I left the split class and moved into a pure Level 3 class. This was my smallest class ever, we only had four people. At the end of that year, I had a choice to make. My instructor, and the most influential person in my life then as well as now, Miss Lisa, said I was good enough to move up into Level 4, and I was ecstatic by that fact. But, a good friend of mine was moving up to Level 3, and if I ever wanted to dance with her, then I would have to stay in Level 3. So I decided that I would rather stay and be with my friend. That was a great decision because I made wonderful friends in that class, most of which I have danced with for years now, and value their friendship. For our Spring Recital that year, we got to do three dances: one to �Dancing� in the Street,� one to �Summer in the City,� and, a production number, to Liza Minneli�s version of �City Lights.� Our costumes looked great, but now as I look back, we all had a little extra weight around the edges.
The next year, we did not move up a level like we had the previous year. Miss Lisa explained to us, �We don�t have enough room in Level 4, because no one is moving up to the Advanced level. So although you will still be in Level 3, we will be learning the Level 4 material.� We all nodded in understanding, proud that we were mature enough to learn new things. That year our theme for the recital was America, and we danced to �R.O.C.K in the USA.� Our costumes were the worst I�ve ever had to wear: tight spandex shorts in blue and white stripes and boxing shirts that came above our heads when we jumped. Since the shirts were too short, we purchased some red sport tops to wear underneath. Although we couldn�t stand the costumes, we kept on dancing.
The next year, we were able to move up to Level 4, but my friend did not come with us. The steps had become too difficult to remember for her, and she had lost her love for dance. Her soccer was also a factor, and it interrupted with practice times. So I went on to Jazz 4 along with the rest of my class. We did wonderfully that year, but nothing could top the year ahead.
The year we moved to Level 5, Miss Lisa approached me with two ideas. She said that there was going to be a youth ensemble that would include song and acting as well as dance, so it was more like a performing group. She wanted me to come and be almost like a leader. Her other idea was to put me into a tap class. She explained that if I took tap, I would have a better chance of getting into the Advanced Level. She also pointed out that both of these additional classes would add to my repertoire and help my performance skills. I, eagerly of course, took the advantage and added three more hours a week to my dance schedule. My first tap class was a nightmare. I knew nothing, and Miss Lisa, for some strange and unknown reason, had shoved me into Tap 5. I struggled to keep up, but she worked with me while the other students were working on combinations, and she even assisted me after class sometimes. With her help, as well as assistance from my friends, I caught up with the class and was able to perform with ease. Miss Lisa has been an inspiration to me, and without her passion for dance and care for her students, I would never had stayed with it.
That year was the best ever. For the recital, being in the youth ensemble plus the extra classes, I was in nine dances! And as well as our dance recital, I had the staring role in a children�s ballet, Fraidy Cat. It was the best time I have ever experienced. Because of the growth of our studio (instead of the meager two rooms we had had in the beginning, we now have four rooms, two offices and an official costume shop), my level squeezed into one dressing room along with the advanced level and the guys. It was crowded, but despite how much we all complained, deep inside, we loved it. Quick costume changes, trying to find our makeup, cries of �Where is my leotard?,� and curtain calls are all part of the rehearsal and recital, and I have come to expect the pressure of doing a good job and being role models for the younger kids. As I run through the halls, praying they�ll hold the music if I�m late, the small children in their cute, fluffy little costumes stare up at us, wondering if they will ever be like us, gazing in awe as I brush by them, offering a tiny smile if I have the time. They are dance�s future, and I can only pray that they stick with it.
So I shake away any distractions at hand and line up backstage, forgetting all the steps, having small panic attacks as I stand with anticipation. But all my worries, nervousness and jitters disappear as I hit the stage, smiling as soon as I get in front of the audience. As soon as the music starts, I forget everything except my connection with the notes. The world disappears and all I think about is dancing. It fills my body, mind, heart and soul as I twist and turn through the steps, thoughts of what to do next fleeting through my brain. It is a feeling almost indescribable, known only among dancers who have been on stage. When the dance ends, so does the feeling, and is immediately forgotten as I prepare for the next dance. The latest recital is still fresh in my mind because we took the program and went to many places over the summer including the Taste of Beaverton, the Multnomah County Fair, and even the Oregon State Fair. In Salem, we performed better than we ever have and the crowd was packed into the meager seating area, some spectators even standing in the back.
Now, I have added even more classes, trying to expand as much as possible. Dance is my life, and I don�t know what I would do if I was unable to do so. Breaking my leg, or losing a part of my body is unimaginable to me. I have emerged my whole life with dance, and my greatest aspiration is to dance on Broadway. I don�t wear my "I (heart) Dance" necklace for nothing.