Why I Dance

As Dr. Burton and I have been talking about my final paper and project, the ideas I have keep hinging on the story behind why I love to dance.  Because it's so important to my ideas that you know why I love dancing so much, I've decided to share that story with you.

My Story:

My mother wanted me to become a classical pianist from the time I was born. However my career as a dancer was foretold by a fellow lifeguard that my mother worked with at the time I was born. This lifeguard was the niece of a ballet instructor, and told my mother that I would be a dancer because all I would do is sit in my car seat and point my toes. By the time I was 3, it was obvious that I was destined to be a dancer. My parents felt that because I attempted to dance and twirl every time they played classical music (hoping I'd become a fine musician), they should invest in some dance lessons. And so I began to dance.

When we moved to Springfield, Oregon, they enrolled me in the Eugene School of Ballet; a prestigious and expensive professional dance academy. My training there was rigorous. From the ages of 6-11 I was going to several hours of dance a week, devoting much of my time during the week to ballet. I was in countless performances, and I was in the nutcracker a total of 3 times, playing various roles and parts. By the time I'd turned 11, I was exhausted. We moved to Utah in October 2003, and when we moved, I stopped dancing. I was tired.

A year later, my soon to be best friend Rachel Webb moved into the house on the street above mine. As we were the only two girls in the neighborhood, we became friends, despite the fact that we were in different grades in school. When I started the 9th grade, I began dancing again, joining the same ballet studio as Rachel. Our friendship solidified, and we were able to do many dance-related things together, in addition to being friends outside of school. But we're going to leave my friendship with Rachel out of this story for the moment.

There are 2 distinct times when I remember turning to dancing to cope with what was happening in my life. This is the first.

As we all know, middle school is rough for everybody. When I was in 6th and 7th grade, I was part of a large group of friends, all girls, and we had several parties for any excuse we could. It was a lot of fun to be friends with them, and I bonded with several of them. However, with such a large group of girls, it was inevitable that we would break apart eventually. This happened in the middle of my 8th grade year. I remained close with a girl named Callie, and she was the friend who I spent most of my time with during school. Callie had the biggest infatuation with this boy who lived on my street. Almost accidentally, I found myself in between she and this boy. It was a bad place to be. In the middle of all of this, I'd found another friend in a girl named Alex. Alex was sweet and quiet, and easily became friends with both Callie and I. Due to the situation with this boy, Callie began to write me notes that were not of the friendliest of nature. I didn't know what was happening. One minute, the three of us had been close friends, the next, we weren't friends at all. My 9th grade year started with Alex and I being friends, but that quickly ended, as she became closer with Callie, and started writing notes with her, making me the object of scorn and ridicule. Rachel remained a friend thorough all of this, although she had her own group of friends to be with during school. She encouraged me to start dancing with her at her studio, and after talking with my parents, I began dancing again. Through dance, I was able to escape the problems of my personal life. Because of the words that had been written to me, my feelings of hurt and betrayal were extreme, and I felt lonelier than ever. Dancing helped me work through those feelings. It helped that Rachel was by my side. She walked home with me after school, cheered me up when I received note after mean note that left me in tears in several of my classes, and was one of my only friends when I had so few.  At her urging, I tried out for the school musical that year, and was cast as a dancer in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. It was one of the most amazing experiences of my 9th grade year. Not only did I get to show my skills in dancing, but I was able to make some other friends in the drama group, and expand my circle of friends. School got a little bit easier after that. Dance continued to be my outlet for my emotions. I found that when I was feeling low, dancing was one of the fastest ways to let go of the anger and the hurt. It helped me create something beautiful in place of something ugly. Time passed, wounds healed... but I kept dancing.

Time passed.

In the middle of my junior year of high school, I switched ballet companies. Unfortunately, this meant that I was no longer dancing with Rachel, but it was a change that was sorely needed. I had outgrown my old studio. My new teacher was phenomenal. In addition to making me dance until my toes were numb, she cultivated my skills as a dancer and helped me improve my self-image. When you're dancing at the level that I was, you spend a lot of time with your teacher. They have a lot of influence over you, as they correct your technique and teach you how to move and use your body correctly. The level of trust that is built between dancers is unlike any other form of trust I've ever experienced. Her opinion and good word was what I was constantly striving for. Through dancing with her, I learned that there were many things that, no matter how unhappy I was with certain aspects of my features or my body, it was all a part of who I was, and that I didn't need to change that. It is so rare to have somebody tell you that when you're in high school. While the entire world was screaming at me that I had to be super thin and toned, I had the person who had the most influence teaching me that there was nothing more important than loving who I was.  My love of dancing increased.

My senior year of high school was the second time that I had to rely on dance to cope with what was happening in my life.

My next door neighbor, and good friend, committed suicide just after the new year in 2010. It was devastating, heartbreaking, and tragic. The next two weeks of my life were some of the hardest of my life. I walked around school in a daze. I barely ate, barely spoke, and could hardly stay awake through most of my classes. I had excellent friends who didn't push me to talk or explain, but they were just normal, supportive, and cheery. I couldn't have asked for more. The only time when I remember feeling remotely okay was when I was dancing. Like before, dance was my outlet for my grief. I danced with single minded intensity that I'd never brought to class before. I was nailing things that I'd been working on for months. Having so much pent up grief and heartbreak was the best thing that I could have ever brought to my dancing. It made every step and movement explode with feeling. I've never spun faster, leaped higher, or stretched further than I did in the moments when I was feeling too much to put into words.

My ability to express and show everybody what I was feeling through my body is something that I treasure above a lot of things. It's been moments and times like the two that I've shared with you that have helped me realize why I love to dance. As much as I love words, and the power that they hold, sometimes words aren't enough, and in those moments, I know why I dance.