Sarah Katherine started talking about taking ballet before she was 2 years old. She begged me to beg Miss Leslie, our neighbor, good friend, and owner of the dance studio, to let her take it before she was 3. I, the total rule follower and the rule was you had to be 3, refused, so she begged. Miss Leslie didn't give in, but one month before Sarah Katherine turned 3, she started taking dance and she hasn't stopped since.
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That same year we signed her up for soccer. She liked it "fine" but said she would only continue if I would make her more smocked dresses with soccer balls on them and if I promised she wouldn't have to head the ball because it messed up her bow--needless to say, that was our one and only season. So this tomboy, who played on the boys high school soccer team at Marist because there wasn't a girl's team, went to her first ballet open house to buy all the stuff you need to take dance as a 3 year old. (Thank goodness for good friends like Katie Hardwick Dillon who went with me that first time to try to navigate the merchandise and get out before I spent an exhorbitant sum of money--that came later!)Leslie also introduced me to the world of ballet mamas. Actually she threw me in there like raw meat to a pack of savage, starving wild beasts. Leslie asked me to "control the mamas backstage so that she could focus on the show. Please," she asked me, "don't let them out of the dressing area." If I wasn't already a drinker, I would have been after that evening. Chris got to be the "bouncer" keeping people from videoing and taking flash photography during the show. I think he secretly liked it although one grandmother threatened to hit him with her "pocketbook the size of a suitcase." And Leslie, for the record, while I still have, love and use those tea glasses you gave me, it wasn't enough!
Well life happened and we moved again and again and again. With every move one of my first goals was to find a ballet studio for SK. She was very specific. She wanted training in classical ballet; she didn't want to compete; she wanted good technique, and she wanted to get better. I'm here to tall you I didn't get better as a ballet mama.
I entered every studio determined not to make eye contact; determined that no one would know I sewed. I sat with mamas who talked about summer intensives and serba. I had no idea what any of that meant, but thank goodness for friends like Janie Banse who patiently explained it to me--and yes SK wore the opal earrings in each of her auditions just as Janie suggested. I had no idea what it meant that pointe shoes were "dead" and I just trusted that SK did. She was on her own much of time. She was putting her hair up on her own by the time she was 6 (I tried but Leslie wouldn't move with us), she sewed her own pointe shoes, pancaked her own shoes--or whatever you pancake; figured out what makeup she needed, and packed her own dance bag each and every day.
A few years ago I gained a new appreciation for SK's love of and passion for dance. She wrote an essay in which she said that when she danced it was the only time she stopped worrying about school and grades and friends and could just be free. She wrote that her mind went blank and and happiness pulsed through her body. I didn't totally understand it when I read those words. She spent 20-30 hours a week in the studio; her feet bled; she missed social events; and she slept very little studying late into the night after coming home exhausted from dance. I didn't understand how this was her release when it looked like a medieval torture chamber to me, but I did understand that she needed it. That day I stopped calculating the hours I spent driving her to dance (I did celebrate when she got her license and I got to stop), the money we spent on leotards and pointe shoes, and I understood that letting her be who she was--letting her choose what she sacrificed to fulfill her passion was a decision I had to let her make--my job was to be supportive. And I understood that day why the fall of second grade when she broke her foot (twice) and her arm and couldn't dance she was so angry. That was a long fall and one I didn't understand--I learned that day that the passion of an 8 year old is real.
For the most part I let SK navigate the ballet world on her own. I think I may always wonder if I did enough, was involved enough--there was one time...Sarah Katherine came home n tears. In her perception she was being overlooked; she wasn't being critiqued in class, she wasn't getting parts, and she wanted to get better. I asked her if she was sure this was what she wanted. Did she really want to continue at this level, this many hours. Did she really want to continue to miss out on high school events-if I'm honest I was slightly hoping she would say yes she did want to back off some, but that's because she was doing high school differently than I did, and I didn't totally get it. -She said it was absolutely what she wanted and tiger mama came out. We made an appointment with the director and went in together. I was shaking; I had no idea what I would be told, and even as an adult I was terrified.
We talked and the director said, "we don't pay as much attention to you because we don't know how committed you are. In your last conference you said you weren't sure if you wanted to dance past high school." This may be the only time I allowed my anger to be as visible in front of a child. Honestly I thought my head was going to pop off; I wanted to lunge across the room and grab her and shake her (she had a baby in a sling which may have been the only thing that stopped me from doing that)-if you told me my head spun around and green phlegm spurted from my mouth I would believe you. Instead I said through clenched teeth, "I think what perhaps you should focus on is that she has not decided. She wants the option and it is your job to make sure she has that. It is not your job to crush her dreams." I didn't add, "And we pay as much as anyone else in that class" but I wanted to and I also wanted to add "and if your daughter chooses traditional sports and not dance I hope that you will stand on every sideline and cheer her on and I hope someone will coach her who will encourage her passion and who will support her because our children are not extensions of ourselves-- they are their own people with their own passions and dreams. It is not our job to crush them at 15 years of age. It is our job to support their dreams and let them take them as far as they want to or are able to."
Sarah Katherine continued to dance all through high school although this year she did cut back on the hours. She continues to love it, and she continues to work hard. Tonight, Chris, Christopher, William, Caroline, Daddy, Marguerite, a slew of friends and myself will head downtown to watch her final showcase. As I'm preparing for the emotional night ahead I'm reflecting on the life lessons I have learned through these years of being a (lousy) ballet mama.
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| She's back in your charge next year Holland! |
1. Ballet may not be a team sport in the way traditional team sports are, but they build camaraderie and they build mentoring. The older dancers mentor and care for the younger ones even on their "special" nights. Children need older children to be their role models and their mentors. Teenagers may seem totally self centered, but they step up when they want to and when they're given the space and responsibility. They are the best teachers and their love and acceptance are never forgotten.
2. The world our children are growing up in is stressful in a way we never experienced. Children need something in their lives that allows them to be free and to release the stress--with the pain fresh in my heart of what happens when a child doesn't have that or hasn't found that, I cannot stress this enough. Make the time and find what resources you have to provide this even if it's hard, even if you don't understand it.
3. People are at their best when they are living their passions.
4. Teenagers are not all manipulative and backstabbing. Every year SK has friends who show up for showcase who may or may not have ever danced. Every year friends take time out of their lives, choose the showcase over a party, and cheer SK on regardless of the role she has. (Some even drag along boyfriends....) Good friends recognize and support each others' passions.
5. Allowing children to be who they are and live their passions even when you don't understand them builds character. They have to take on more responsibility because no book can give you all the answers. (Read it anyway) It may cause guilt for you, but it's good for them. Get involved when you have to; otherwise, let them handle it--they can.6. Sometimes you may have to overcome your own fears and/or your own wants in order to support your child in their passion. You may have to speak up fully aware that you don't understand the complexities; speak up when you have to. It's our job as parents.
7. Families can get involved in anything. Bribery may be necessary...
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| Pittsburgh Ballet Nutcracker |
It's been an interesting 16 years as a ballet mama. I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Final three life lessons I've learned:
1. How to "do" all five ballet positions
2. Dixie cups filled with water and frozen make excellent ice packs for shin splints
3. NEVER be best friends with the dance studio's owner!
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