It can be said that being a dancer and having a physical disability doesn't usually "go together." However, despite my physical limitations, I wanted to dance more than anything, and more importantly, I wanted to eradicate the misconception that if you have a physical disability, you can't dance.
This is my story.
Growing up as a person with Cerebral Palsy, I was automatically limited in the types of extracurricular activities I could participate in. Sure, I was a girl scout, I played a few adaptive sports, and I took singing and acting lessons, but I always wanted to do more. In my free time, I loved watching videos of people skateboarding, dancing, and cheerleading – things people said I "couldn't do." But my parents often told me never to use the words "I can't" because according to them, I could do anything I put my mind to.
With that in mind, one day, in eighth grade, after years and years of dreaming of taking dance lessons, I strode confidently into our family room and told my parents and brother that I wanted to sign up for dance. Now, even though my family was, by far, comprised of my biggest fans, they hesitated and rightfully so. Keep in mind, that I did participate in a special needs dance class when I was younger, but now I was asking to sign up for a "real" dance class – one that wasn't just for disabled kids.
Hesitant, but still wanting to support me, my dad drove me to the local dance studio where I was soon scheduled to start private ballet lessons the next month.
Before I knew it, the day of my first ballet lesson had arrived. I was extremely excited, but a bit nervous knowing that I was the first disabled dance student to ever be enrolled. Needless to say, after the lesson I told my mom that I absolutely loved it and couldn't wait for my next one. Looking back, I can confidently say that that day was the day I knew I was going to be dancing for as long as I possibly could.
As the months went by, my dance teacher and I worked together to modify the steps and tricks that needed to be so that I could do them successfully. I worked both in the dance studio and at home with the goal of being the best dancer I could possibly be, given my limitations.
One day, during a jazz lesson, I asked my dance teacher how she felt about me competing in a dance competition. Luckily for me, she loved the idea and within weeks she had choreographed my first solo to Christina Perri's "A Thousand Years." Fast forward a couple of my months to my first competition, I was very excited and the experience couldn't have been better. I had this truly amazing and indescribable feeling while I was dancing, something I had never felt before – like I had finally found where I belonged. I continued to compete and soon became a member of Fusion Force Dance Company, my studio's competition team, which I am still a member of to this day.
Throughout my dance journey, there have been many ups and downs, people who don't agree with the fact that I dance, and people who have doubted my ability to dance, but through it all, I have never once regretted walking into that studio and signing up all those years ago.
Dance has been, and will always, be an outlet for me. It has helped me deal with challenges I didn't think I could overcome. I know it sounds dramatic, but I can't imagine my life without it.
Ultimately, my story illustrates that if you believe you can, you will. If I would've believed that it was impossible for me to dance, I wouldn't have ever started. So, thank you, dance, for allowing me to see that nothing is impossible if you work hard and believe in yourself.