I was two years old when I held my mother's hand as we walked through the glass paneled door of the dance studio in a small town on Long Island. Little did I know I'd be spending the next fifteen years of my life walking through that same door.
When people ask me to describe myself, one of the first things I say to them is, I'm a dancer. Ballet, jazz, pointe, lyrical, they all bring me different kinds of joy. Ballet and pointe are so graceful and refined. They're performed with an elegance that comes with years of practice and patience. Jazz is different. It's spunky and mischievous and allows for so many different musical styles. Lyrical is so relaxed and flowing. It allows for interpretations and creative straying from typical "rules" of dance.
No matter what type of dance I'm performing, whether for myself or an audience, my favorite thing about dance is its ability to tell a story. Throughout my dance career, I've performed dances with stories depicting exciting things like the era of the 60s, and serious things like the arrival of hopeful immigrants to America. The ability that dance holds to initiate feelings in an audience will forever leave me in awe. One of my favorite, as well as one of the most emotionally powerful pieces I have ever had the privilege of performing was a piece choreographed by Miss Colleen Murphy. The dance depicted the HIV/Aids epidemic of the 80s that had a tremendous impact on the arts community in NYC. Our performance featured some dancers as human forms of the disease, and some as dancers of the time. As the dance progressed, so did the disease. The piece was so powerful that once it was over, there was a quiet hush over the audience before a teary-eyed uproarious applause. This is why I dance.
Being able to play a character that tells such a powerful story, no matter what it may be, is an amazing thing. Being able to play a character that tells such a powerful story without using words, is even more amazing. This is why I dance.
Now that I'm in college, I find it harder and harder to find time to dance. But when those moments arise, few and far between as they may be, you can bet I take full advantage of them. When that music starts playing, I stand in the center of the room, take a few deep breaths, and being the story. Before I know it, that two year old girl is back, without a care a in the world, doing the thing that makes her the happiest. This is why I dance.
