As someone who’s been dancing classical ballet for ten years, I can tell you that relying on it is a beautiful thing. But also dangerous. The stereotype of the crazy ballerina exists for a reason, even if it isn’t totally real. If you’ve ever seen Black Swan, it's extreme. But it shows how high the emotional and physical states are, and no one talks about how it rips you apart.
Everyone has their good and bad days, and in ballet, everyone’s moods are usually dependent on that: I feel like I’m making no progress or my turns were so bad today are thoughts all dancers struggle with. In general, I am hard on myself because I want to be better for myself. I like to be good at what I am doing, and ballet is difficult, so what I love most is how challenging it is. But I used to hate how disciplined classes were, and there were times where it was very difficult as a dancer to push through.
Now, I practice twenty to twenty-five hours a week. What makes it worth it is when I am dancing on stage. When I nail a challenging combination. When the strict teacher compliments me. When I feel confident in a leotard. These are all things that may seem little to non-dancers but keep ballet dancers going. Dancing on stage (especially in a costume) is one of the most rewarding feelings ever because I know how hard I worked to get to that point. Hours, days, weeks of tireless rehearsals pay off for the few minutes I am dancing on stage. I feel as though I am swept up in the music, and my body is absorbed into it. Dancing on stage is the moment for perfection.
But ballet is unforgiving about mistakes. Our bodies are made to move in super-human ways, and correction often asks the body to do something that is beyond its limit. When I was younger, maybe from ages three to ten, I hated being corrected on my dancing. I put the thought in my head that my teachers believed that I was horrible at dance, so I wanted to quit. I eventually learned that my teachers didn’t correct me because I was dancing poorly, they corrected me because they wanted to see me excel and get better. Once I entered that addictive state of constantly wanting to achieve better things, corrections or approval were all I wanted. There are so many failures that when the reward comes, I stand up a little taller. I feel proud of my commitment to all the hard work.
But, when I was about ten years old, I almost quit.
I received very few compliments in my level five classes. By level four, dancers qualify for a more rigorous program doing three classes a week. I wasn’t too serious about it, so I was not doing more than one class in my level four. My teacher was extremely harsh towards me, and often acted like my height was a bad thing. But my teacher said I should do more, so I did. I had no encouragement from her, and it was at that point I felt like quitting.
What made me stay? It's a funny story.
The moment I wanted to quit, an animated ballet movie came out called Leap (2016). Watching it sparked something in me to push through the ridiculous favoritism and refine my technical precision. The movie showed a young girl, about my age, whose dream was to be a dancer. She also struggled with favoritism and disciplining herself in class, but that didn’t stop her. The main character reminded me of myself and made me think: If she can push through, so can I. The movie prevented me from quitting at the time, but the reason I stayed committed was because of a teacher.
When I was ten years old, I had my first class with a beloved teacher at my studio: Michelle Symos. Miss Michelle is a very kind, opinionated, and intimidating woman. Her job at my dance studio is to primarily teach girls who are considered older, like I was at ten, because they were dancers who began ballet at three to four years old.
My level and I were a bit wary of her at first, but we all warmed up to her after only a few classes. We weren’t used to helpfully motivating speeches that were tough to hear (dancing badly is your own fault) but helpful because it came from a place of support and guidance. I was always put down by my previous teacher, so I expected to be put in the back and harshly treated because I was used to years of being told I was ungraceful and too tall from a very young age.
Miss Michelle noticed my habit of shrinking to make myself look shorter, or going in the back line for every exercise, and she figured out that it was because of my height (I am 5’10 and had horrible posture for a ballerina). She noticed I danced timidly. But Miss Michelle is tall, too, and she taught me to dance big and fill the space in the room. She taught me to not slouch and hide in the back because I was tall, but project myself in class and embrace my height. After a month or two of classes with her, my confidence started to grow. I thought I had to be short to be good at ballet. She speeched that out of me, and for that I am grateful.
I didn’t fully realize that Miss Michelle was the reason for my commitment. It didn’t register in my mind that a person could be the reason for sticking with an activity or sport. As an impressionable little girl, I was brainwashed into thinking I had to be treated poorly to become a better dancer. Looking back, I can’t believe I ever had thoughts like that. There are always initial reasons for not quitting something, but it’s almost always a person that makes you stay. People are powerful because they have real emotions and feelings, which can hugely influence others. No movie, documentary, or book is ever as influential as a person. When a coach or teacher is committed to you, it makes you want to stay committed to them. Sticking with an activity for only yourself is SO difficult because you have very little motivation or encouragement.
My commitment to dance has grown because of Miss Michelle’s commitment to me. When you feel like someone is supporting you and rooting for you, a part of you wants to stay just for them. If quitting dance without shame or punishment was an option five years ago, I probably wouldn't be dancing now. It’s not that I didn’t like dance, it is that the teacher I had, and the environment I was put in, made me want to quit. Miss Michelle changed my whole way of thinking about myself as a person and as a dancer.
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