With the wedding of Kate & William happening tomorrow, the world is abuzz with storybook dreams.
It’s a nice change from wars, strife and gas prices, isn’t it?
At first I thought I’d write a post about my 3 month stay in London back in 1980 – but that was a rough time in my life. Every time I started to write, the depressive feelings welled up inside of me again. No thanks.
Instead I decided to write about my own dream that is coming true next month – I’m teaching dance again after a 20 year hiatus.
Dance was truly my first passion. I didn’t dance as a child – quite the opposite. I didn’t start dancing until I was 25, ‘old’ by dance standards.
After a traumatic break-up with not-even-close-to-Prince-Charming, I needed something to do with my life. I signed up for two classes – beginning jazz dance and tailoring. I wound up quitting both after a couple weeks. Tailoring was just too . . . um, tedious. And dance? Well, my teacher was maybe 21 years old and thought just because she could do high kicks and the splits that all of us should be able to also.
While ‘25’ sounds very young to me now, during those few dance classes, I felt very, very old. And frustrated. So I quit.
A few months later, A Chorus Line – The Movie came out over the Christmas holiday. I couldn’t get my roommates to go with me so I went to the show by myself.
The movie started with the screen completely black. All you heard was “5-6-7-8” and footsteps. Immediately I got goosebumps and tears started to flow. I cried for the entire movie. So much so that I hardly saw any of it.
I was glad I was by myself.
The next day, I went to see it again. Same thing – goosebumps, then tears. For four straight days I went to see A Chorus Line and each time the same thing happened. I had no idea why, but I knew I had to try dance class again. As soon as the studio was back in session, I was in Beginning Jazz.
This time I had a wonderful teacher, D’Anne. She was patient, understanding, and she explained moves in a way that wasn’t patronizing, yet got us to understand them. It was exhilarating.
I found out later that D’Anne had started dance as an adult and was trained by Pepper Von.
But Pepper didn’t teach beginners. And everyone, including me, wanted to take class from Pepper. He’s one of those people that has that special ‘something’ that draws you in. I’ve seen it happen hundreds of times – people wanting, needing, to take class from him.
If you’re a beginning dancer, you just have to work hard, take class, train, and eventually you’ll be in one of his classes. So that’s what I did. Two classes a week, then four, then 7. Pretty soon I was taking eleven dance classes a week. I was hooked.
Months later, Pepper called and asked me when I was gonna start teaching. Whaaa?!? I had only been dancing a year! How could I possible teach?
With the help of a great teacher, that’s how. I soon learned that as much as there is to learn about dancing, there’s even more to learn about teaching. That’s when the real work started.
Have you ever loved doing something so much that it isn’t work at all? It’s a need – like the air that you breathe – and all you know is that you just have to do it. Dance was that for me.
As much as I loved dancing, I loved teaching even more. I loved seeing women come into class, cloaked in over-sized T-shirts and sweatpants and tentatively move to the music. But those same women would eventually shed those ‘masks’ and begin dancing, not moving, but truly dancing to music. That was my greatest reward as a teacher – watching them transform. It wasn’t just that they could dance – it was the newfound self-confidence they exuded. Totally awesome.
So why has it been 20 years since I taught, you might ask. Well, because I met my own Prince Charming 20 years ago next month. Not that he would’ve ever asked me to quit teaching. He didn’t. But Prince Charming came with 3 little princes, and they needed a mother.
Let me tell you how much I knew about parenting – I figured I’d take 6 months off from teaching until I got the ‘family thing’ handled.
The boys are all grown now and I still haven’t got it handled!
But now, at the ‘young’ age of 53, with a bad back, without having set foot on a dance floor in eons, I’m making my dream come true – I’m teaching dance again.
Ok, so we won’t be doing any leaps across the floor. Or double pirouettes. But we will DANCE. And I fully expect to see over-sized T-shirts and sweatpants on the first night of class. And that’s alright.
I know this fairy tale has a happy ending.
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