St. Patrick’s Day is right around the corner and across the globe, a small population is excitedly counting down the days and preparing for the holiday. And no, by “small population” I do not mean leprechauns. I’m talking about the Irish dance community. St Patrick’s Day is one of the biggest days for performance for all dancers, with the most important competitive event, the World Championships, following just a week or two later. I’ve been an Irish Dancer for 15 years now, and though I don’t compete anymore and only dance with my University’s team, it has had such a momentous and positive impact on my life for sure. The community of Irish dancers across the country and even around the world is brought together by their love of the sport and the culture it embodies. From the outside it looks like great fun--and it is--but there is so much more to it than jigs and weird white socks. What is it actually like to be an Irish dancer then? Here are a few thoughts that run through every Irish dancers’ mind at least once or twice in their career.
“I actually can’t sit still and I’m concerned there’s something wrong with me”
Ever since I started dancing it’s like I’ve been bitten by a bug and suddenly have very good control of my upper body and very little control of my lower half. Standing in line at the grocery store, sitting at my desk in class, walking down the sidewalk. I’m always dancing, whether to the music inside my head or a random song on the radio, I’m going over my step or choreographing routines of my own.
“I think St. Patrick’s Day might actually be better than Christmas”
What other holiday centers around one and one culture only? It’s a day dedicated to celebrating my Irish heritage, something I’m actually pretty good at doing since I basically do that every time I step into my shoes. There’s no other holiday that allows me to go from place to place performing routines with some of my closest friends.
“I feel like Mary Poppins”
Not because of the singing. I can’t sing. There’s a reason I took up dance. But I can relate pretty hard to her magical bag that contains endless amounts of crap. Wig. Bobby pins and hair-ties. Hair donut. Make-up. Earrings. Crown. Poodle socks...scratch that. Bedazzled poodle socks. Sock glue. Duct tape. Blister pads. Heavy shoes. Soft shoes. Dance sneakers. That probably exceeds Mary Poppins standards, considering that doesn’t even all fit in one bag.
“Sometimes I wish I was bald”
I’ve always been envious of the kids that played soccer and all they had to do was put their hair in a ponytail and they were good to go. But instead, I chose to fall in love with the sport that requires me to wear ~5 pounds of fake hair on top of my own, attached with too many bobby pins to count and some wicked painful combs. If I had been bald, or at least a boy, I wouldn’t have even had to worry about that monster. Though it’s fun seeing people’s reactions when I lie and tell them it’s my real hair.
“I feel guilty about how expensive this all is”
I could’ve just chosen to play T-ball like every other kid where all you need is a bat and some cleats but nooooo, I had to pick the sport that requires a $2000+ dress every other year. Not to mention the travel fees for going to different competitions in different states and the new shoes (times 2). The fake hair. The bling. I tend to think that if I hadn’t taken up Irish dance, my family could probably own a private jet or something.
