Dear Dancer,
I’m hoping that if you’re reading this you’re maybe a little younger than I am (20), but if you’re not, hopefully you can learn a few things from this dissertation anyway. This letter is full of all of the things I wish someone had told me at least 10 years ago. Things that would’ve saved me a lot of trouble and a little bit of regret.
Dancing is really one of the only things I’ve ever done with passion, and before setting off in the real world, I wish someone had sat me down and said “here’s what’s going to happen and here’s what you need to do to be ready for it.” Unfortunately, that didn’t happen, but hopefully this will be a semi-decent replacement for that conversation.
First of all, love your team. Whether you are a competition kid, an aspiring ballerina, or a killer street performer, the people you’re surrounded by are your family. Treat them as such. The people that are still a part of my life now, three years post high school, are the girls I grew up dancing alongside. It just so happened that we all went to the same high school, but our friendship started and flourished as teammates. These people understand what you went through; all the long rehearsal days and show/competition weekends, the terrible costumes you’ll still be laughing about 10 years later, the joy you feel when you dance, all of it. Hold these people close.
Second, cherish your teachers and work hard for ALL of them. Don’t ever give a teacher 50 percent because of how you feel about them as a person. This will no doubt come back to bite you in the butt. Also, you don’t get to complain about a teacher not “liking you” if you don’t put any effort into their class. It’s a two-way street. They work hard to choreograph numbers for you, the least you could do is shut up and do what you’re told. You also need to cherish every word your teacher says. Teachers come from a variety of backgrounds, and if you listen hard enough you might just find that they have an incredible past or that everything that comes out of their mouth is truly brilliant. And yes, I’ve had bad teachers. But the brilliant ones have far outweighed the bad ones, and frankly, I gained a lot of tolerance and self-respect from the bad ones - the ones that broke me down instead of building me up. Those teachers are important, too.
Third, get some strength behind all that flexibility you’ve developed over the years. When I was 19 I had a teacher tell me something along the lines of “you can’t just whack your leg into the air and expect the rest of your body to be there for you.” DING! LIGHT BULB MOMENT! I wish someone had told me that 10 years ago. I would’ve saved myself a lot of injury, past and present, if I had done something to strengthen all those muscles that were overly flexible but not at all strong. I promise that as soon as you hit 18/19 years old, all that killer flexibility you have isn’t going to be as great as you thought. Help yourself now and do some yoga or join a gym and don’t moan about doing crunches. It could be worse. You could be doing burpees.
Lastly, try everything once. Don’t avoid a class because it’s “different” than what you’re used to doing. I promise you’ll learn something from every class you take. In my first semester of college I had a teacher whose specialty was West African Dance. I never thought I’d do anything like that, but just a few weeks of instruction from her and I started to feel more confident in rhythm and was able to release some of the tension I hold when I dance. So many studios offer so many types of classes and it’s so essential to get out of your comfort zone. If you’re a ballerina, take Hip Hop, and if you’re a breakdancer, take ballet. I can guarantee you’ll learn something beneficial to your “signature” style.
All right, dancers. It’s all up to you now. You’ve picked a tricky sport, but if you do it right, it’ll be the best thing that ever happened to you. Embrace every moment.
Merde,
Emily
