OMG! I love the topic this week! It’s recital week! Everyone keep calm…and dance on!
The past few weeks have been filled with end of school concerts, programs, tests, and whatever other chaos leads to much hair pulling. But recital week? No matter how crazy the rest of the world gets, I still look forward to the last few rehearsals, making sure the music is edited just perfectly, and praying that the kids remember all the pieces to their costume. I teach one beginning hip hop class at the studio where my daughter and I take. The studio is very family oriented (owned by one family for 84 years) and so NOT like that train wreck seen on TV with Abby Lee Miller’s studio and her “Dance Moms”. I appreciate that the owner, Ms. Starr, very much welcomes those of us not ready to give up our tap and jazz shoes. And the dance studio will be one of those things that I am going to miss so much when we move across the country in less than three weeks.
I was 14 when I first started dance lessons, relatively late compared to most, but I’d been involved in baton twirling since I was 7. The dance was to help my twirling (which it did), but it has been an activity that I’ve been able to continue throughout my adult life in some capacity. My daughter has taken dance lessons off and on since she was three. During the off years, she was into gymnastics or music. While she does not dream of dancing professionally (that I’m aware of), she hopes that she will always have the opportunity to take dance classes. As for me, I’m at an age where I’m thankful for every opportunity to slip on the tights, shimmy into some sparkly costume, and perform on a stage with an audience. Sunday may be my last chance for a while, but I’m really excited because my parents (and in-laws) will be in the audience. Granted, they’re probably coming more to see my kid than me, but that’s perfectly fine in my book. Funny thing is that my dad hasn’t seen me dance since 1997 and yet, I still have that same childish need to impress him that I had back at my first baton recital in 1976. (Sorry, no old school costume pic to show.)
My goal is to be one of the white-haired senior citizens still flap-ball-changing across a stage when my children’s children are the ones in the pastel pink ballet tights doing their very best to remember what comes after the tendu passé that they repeat four times on each side. Even if they forget, I hope they will always remember to Keep Calm and Dance On!