I like to believe that I could dance before I could walk. I can’t remember a time in my life that I haven’t been dancing. As a child, I would perform at family parties and constantly ask my mom to record my dances. The amount of video cassette tapes I have of my impromptu performances is endless. When I was only two years old, my mom signed me up for dance lessons, and that is where my deep love affair with dance began. In my first recital, my class and I performed the Shirley Temple classic “Baby Take a Bow.” Taking my place center stage, I belted out the words and danced my heart out. And from that moment on, in the simplest and most pure form, I began to love dance.
I have never been the most skilled or technical dancer, but one thing I’ve always heard and have always been proud of is that I have so much passion when it comes to dance. Dance is something I care so immensely about. My teammates used to refer to me as “Momma Green” (our competition teams were named by color). I think it has to do with the fact that my studio made incredible efforts to make the dance space feel like a home. This is essential when you’re spending five or more nights a week with the same people in the same place. And some of my proudest moments have taken place in the dance studio, with the support of my dance family behind me.
Through all the ups and downs of my life, dance has always been there. I could always look forward to those few hours of escape a night at dance practice. I could forget the world and pour my heart out during a performance. I could be truly free for those few, much too quick minutes of a dance. Being able to express myself and let loose kept me calm and anxiety-free. Dance was a part of me, and if I were ever to give up dance entirely then I would be giving up a part of myself.
When I heard there was a dance team at Curry College, I had a vast range of emotions. I was excited that my dance career wasn’t completely over, nervous about the skill level I would have to live up to, and everything in between. It took some convincing but I decided to sign up and it was one of the best choices I made. I was able to perform all over campus at different events; we even performed on FOX 25 News. I also created unbreakable bonds with the girls on the team in only a few short months and finally felt at home at school.
During my sophomore year, our dance team made some incredible developments by hiring a new coach who used to be a Radio City Rockette. Along with this came a new team tryout and a significant amount of cuts to the team. The day of tryouts I was extremely nervous and I knew my heart wasn’t in it. I psyched myself out, couldn’t hit my turns, struggled with choreography, and felt overall foolish. I was disappointed in myself and in the pit of my stomach I knew I blew my chance at making the new team.
A week or so later the list of girls who had made the team was released. When I searched the list and saw the lack of my name, I tried to take it with a positive attitude. I thought it was alright; I had a busy semester, and dance would’ve just added more stress to my already hectic schedule. But the truth was and still is that I miss dance. It was my outlet, my form of stress relief, and knowing that I probably won’t dance again was hard.
It’s difficult accepting that I am not dancing in a class setting anymore nor in a structured dance schedule, but I had always known my dance career wouldn’t last forever. I am thankful for my experience with dance and wouldn’t trade it for the world. Dance taught me dedication, hard work, passion, teamwork. Dance taught me to love myself, my body, and to know my own strength and power. Dance taught me how to have fun, how to find the joy in life, how to take a moment to stop and just dance. And the best part about dance is that I really don’t need that class setting to be able to dance; all I need to do is move my feet. Whenever given the choice to sit it out or dance, I will always dance.
