A dancer walks into a barre.

Feelings of nerves and excitement flood her as she first steps into the     grand studio. For the first time in her three year old life, she is going to be a part of something.  A team, a family. Seeing herself in her white leotard, her mind is transported into the future. She can see herself on stage, in a big pink tutu, in front of a crowd of adoring fans.  As much as her young mind can comprehend, this is her dream.

These feelings; of dreams coming true, of the beginning of the biggest chapter of her life, soar through her head as she first steps up to the barre.  Grasping it for the first time, she comes to realize that she is now officially a dancer.

First Position

In ballet, the first position is the stance in which your legs are straight together and your heels are “kissing.”  This is one of the first things that any dancer learns, as well as the easiest. Essentially, the dancer is just standing in place, and yet looks so graceful and poised.  

The ability to look like a dancer when just standing still is earned through tireless hours of classes and rehearsals.  To achieve the look, the dancer needs to be able to mimic exactly what the teacher says. In my beginning years as a ballerina,  we devoted time every class to learning the proper way to stand in first position. We were told to pretend that our feet were butterflies so that we would turn out.  We pretended to be pieces of toast in toasters and if our stomachs or butts were sticking out, they would get burned. My teachers told stories of techniques that their teachers used, poking them with sticks when they were standing wrong or placing little cups of water on their shoulder or head to keep their backs straight.  They would tell us how lucky we were to not have to go through that. How lucky we were to have such nice teachers.

Of course we listened to them… because we were three.  We normalized the natural obedience to our teachers. We would stand quietly at the barre at the beginning of class to prove our professionalism.  We would address our teachers whenever we saw them or else we were rude and spoiled children. We let our teachers grab at our bodies, as if trying to mold them into the perfect ballerina.  Through this blind obedience, we learned poise and grace, finally mastering first position.

Baker

Along with most ballet studios, every year, my studio put on a performance of The Nutcracker for Christmas.  Prior to my first year in the show, the only performances that I had been in were small ones at the studio where we showed our parents how good we were at galloping across the floor.  As a kindergartener, I was ecstatic to finally be able to try out for my first real show.

The whole audition process was weird to say the least.  Each dancer was given number and our instructor, who knew us for our whole lives, suddenly only knew us as number 26, or number 45.  We would do different variations from the shows and the majority of us would get told how bad of dancers we were. In the following years, after auditions I would typically go home and cry, feeling that my dreams of being a ballet dancer were ruined.  Then, the whole studio would spend the next week in anticipation, waiting for parts to be announced.

I performed in the nutcracker for 11 years of my life, for a rough total of 44 shows.  Not every year was bad. I got to be the soldier that shot the mouse since I had the most dramatic audition, I was a lobster since I was too injured to audition so they just assumed that I was a better dancer that I actually am, I got to be the first girl in my class to be cast as a gingerbread man and a chinese silk dancer, and I got to be a candy cane dancer, dancing behind my cousin.  The best year of all was my fifth grade year of nutcracker when I got to be Johann in the party scene. Every young dancer at my studio had dreams of getting casted as a party girl in the scene. I was not quite at that level so my shining moment in the party scene was as Clara’s younger boy cousin. I did get to fly onstage.

For six out of eleven years in the nutcracker, I played a baker.  At first it was the coolest thing ever because I was the first third grader to be cast in such a mature role.  I spent two years as a “mini baker” standing in the background with a partner and doing quirky movements when the time came.  The first time that I was an actual baker, I was ecstatic. I already knew the dance from watching everyone else do it and it felt like getting a huge promotion.  Year after year, it started becoming less ‘cool’ that I was getting the same part. I got a break in eighth grade, but as a freshman in highschool, seeing my name in the same place that it had been since third grade was truly heartbreaking.  My teacher said that it was just because she needed people who knew the dance but I knew that they just didn’t have anywhere else to put me.

“Natalie!”

Having three cousins go through the studio before me, my teachers often mistook me for them

Natalie didn’t stay long in dance and soon quit to pursue martial arts

I never understood why they always thought that I was her since she didn’t spend many years at the studio

“Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth lasted a little longer in the studio than her sister.  

She quit because of the time commitment of being a ballerina became too much for her

I told myself that I couldn’t quit because I didn’t want to copy my cousins

“Rachael.”

Rachael was a professional contemporary dancer and occasionally taught at the studio

Teachers would tell me stories about how great of a dancer my cousin is

Going to the same studio as my cousin, I wanted to make her proud of me and prove to the teachers that I would be great too

I was never mistaken for Rachael

Second Position

The second position in dance is not very commonly used.  In this position, your feet are a little farther than a hip distance apart and turned out.  This stance is only used as a pose or as a transition between two different moves. While it is supposedly and important position, being the second out of six, it is so easily overlooked.

The feeling of uselessness is common within the dance world.  Starting at a young age, our teachers want to get us in the mindset of being in a professional company.  Zero toleration. We were asked to make up missed classes if we ever missed which we were strongly advised not to.  I remember my teacher telling my class that unless we are throwing up or contagious, we should always come to class and at least watch.  I rarely missed class for the majority of my dance career. I would go after having the worst day at school. I would go after crying in the car.  I would go when my body was so sore that I didn’t know if I would handle another class. I only remember a couple instances when I asked the teacher if I could just sit and watch, one of them being when I stubbed my toe so bad that it started bleeding and the other when I was so sick that I was having a difficult time breathing.  

As a whole, we were all too scared to miss class.  Especially during rehearsal seasons. Every year I watched my teacher tell classes what she had told my class before, “You are replaceable.”  We knew that if we missed too much that we could be easily replaced because we weren’t special.

The second position is important.  Combined with a plie, it's a very strong start to a jump.  

Giselle

During the ballet Giselle, Giselle is summoned from her grave by the Wilis.  The Wilis all seem to dance as if one person with common motives while Giselle is simply a peasant girl with a kind heart.

At my dance studio, there were “closed classes” which were special classes that you had to be invited into to join.  These girls receive more advanced training and are required to take more classes. I wasn’t in closed classes until later because my dance teacher wasn’t aware that my family could afford them.  Joining them was like finally getting to sit at the cool kids table.

I remember my first time going to a closed class.  Everyone seemed so put together and coordinated. The majority of them saw themselves being professional ballerinas in the future.  

I got yelled at for playing with my bandaid.

Ballet Fat

In my leotard and tights I felt pretty

Looking like a ballerina made me feel poised and proper

I’d put my hair into a bun, carefully placing each bobby pin

In the car, I’d put on mascara, knowing that I will sweat it off later

In class I felt fat

I knew it was in my head but surrounded by my classmates, I no longer felt pretty

My leotard and tights felt wrong on me

I realized that I did not look like how a ballerina should look

My bun made my head look small, making the rest of me feel so big

My mascara was smudged from sweat

Third Position

During my time as a dancer, I never completely understood what third position is.  Its normally skipped over and we all just accept that the third position is rare.

Twice a year, my studio would put on a performance, one being nutcracker and the other being my recital.  With these brought my favorite classes and rehearsals. Costumes. I didn’t know what it was about getting into costume for the first time that just made everything feel so worth it.  We’d usually spend the whole rehearsal doing the fittings and then wear them for any continuing rehearsals. I have always loved costumes. Even while dressing up as a victorian boy, wearing a fake stomach as a baker, or hiding underneath a giant mouse costume, I was happy.  I assumed that this love came from just a love for performing, until I spent this past year working as the costumer for the drama club. While I love performing, I was perfectly content working behind the scenes on what I loved.

Costumes are easy to forget about.  In dance we focus on skills and technique and costumes just tie it all together.  For me, costumes are so much more. They make the dance finally make sense.

Pointe Shoes

The ideal picture of a ballerina is a woman in a pancake tutu and pointe shoes.  In reality, it takes the dancer years to work up to the point where she can get pointe shoes.  In preparation, we had to take a special class where we spent 45 minutes doing foot and ankle stretches to strengthen our bodies.  I remember one class, our teacher asked one of the older dancers to come in and show us her shoes and feet. These shoes that were perceived as so beautiful onstage were beaten up and ugly in person.  Her feet were blistered and bruised from the hours of work.

Even seeing this, we were all excited when it came our time to get pointe shoes.  Before we were allowed to move on to pointe, we all had to get assessed by our teacher.  The horror of being told whether or not I was strong enough in front of my peers weighed on me as I danced for my teacher.  Two girls before me were told to wait until the fall to start pointe rather than starting in the summer with the rest of the class and I was prepared to be number three.  The weight was lifted once I was deemed worthy. I could feel the clouds in the sky parting and letting the sun shine through.

The clouds came back once I got in the car.  My mom explained to me that she didn’t feel comfortable with me starting pointe yet.  At the time, I had just recently found out that I had an extra bone in my foot and my mom was afraid that letting me take pointe would lead to the possibility of injury.  

I still had to go to the classes.  While my friends were on pointe, I stayed in my soft shoes and tried to laugh it off.  They told me how lucky I was that I wasn’t dancing on pointe, that I was saving my feet from the pain.  The most heartbreaking moment was when I went to go buy a new leotard and I was my whole class in the dance store, getting fitted for their shoes.  

Once on pointe, I finally got to understand the pain.  While pretty, the dancer on pointe is ruining her body for her passion.  I didn’t understand the point.

Black Sheep

In a room full of lambs, it's hard not to notice the black sheep

She could be picked out of the crowd

Unique and Different

Yet, in a room full of lambs, the black sheep goes unnoticed

Because no one wants to pick the black sheep

Because you can’t be unique and different in a crowd of lambs

Sleeping Beauty

The ballet The Sleeping Beauty tells the story of a young princess, cursed by an evil sorceress.  This curse causes the princess and the rest of the kingdom to fall into a deep sleep that is only broken by a kiss from a handsome prince.

With any passion, comes long hours of work.  Most days, I would come home from school and immediately change for dance.  I got into the habit of having dinner around 9pm and starting my homework around 10 or 11.  At that point, I was always completely exhausted and an assignment that would normally take 30 minutes suddenly turned into 3 hours.  I got into the habit of going to bed around 3 or 4 am nightly to the point that I wouldn’t get tired before then.

This shift in sleep schedule hit especially hard entering high school.  As a freshman, in dance I was required to take more classes than I previously had been and in school, my workload increased as I started taking more advanced classes.  I began falling asleep in class, taking long naps at home, or sleeping in the car on the way to dance. The cycle only worsened. Some nights, I was forced to pull an all nighter in order to finish my homework because I had taken too long of a nap after coming home.  The later I stayed up, the more tired I got causing me to once again need to stay up late. I normalized the idea of getting three to four hours of sleep a night. Being tired at dance decreased my work ethic and most days I just didn’t think I could handle going.

Unlike The Sleeping Beauty, there is no happy ending to this story.  No handsome prince has come along to fix my sleep schedule.  No magical fairy has tried to guide me to a better lifestyle.  I remain cursed.

Pas de Deux

During middle and high school, the main thing that kept me in dance was the friendships that I formed at my studio.  I had the smallest class in the school because so many of the girls quit or moved. This constant change of students caused an equally constant change in friend groups.  For years, I was considered to be outgoing and talkative because I had a solid group of friends behind my back. Through the years though, they all slowly left, leaving me as a quiet and reserved dancer.  

One friend stayed.  My friend Lizzy and I were often placed in the same boat my our teachers so we bonded over not being favorited.  Her cheerful attitude helped me get through the hardest of classes and made me excited to go to dance to see her.  We joked about our teacher not knowing the difference between us, never letting her audition for certain parts due to the fact that she is taller than me (in reality, she is maybe 5’4 while I am 5’7).  During classes, we always partnered up together and were completely in sync with each other. Dancing with her made me feel relaxed because she made it fun for me. As time went on, we started having less and less classes together since both of us had such busy schedules.  The classes that we did have together, one of us was always absent when the other decided to show up. Still, I got excited whenever I walked into class and heard, “Hey buddy!”

I felt horrible leaving her.

A Dancer Walks into a Barre

A dancer walks into a barre for the first time in weeks.  After skipping one class, it just gets harder to go back.

The dancer loves being a dancer, but she feels as though it has taken over.  She is tired of being “the dancer.” She begins to feel stuck.

What was once her passion becomes a chore.  Yet, the dancer is comfortable with her identity.  The dancer fears change and isn’t prepared to no longer be “the dancer.”  

She feels trapped.  The dancer knows that she loves dance and doesn’t want to let her past self down, but she also wants to expand her interests.  Torn, the dancer returns to class, feeling like a fraud of a dancer.

Romeo and Juliet

The ballet Romeo and Juliet is based off of William Shakespeare's famous play following the story of forbidden love and heartbreak.

I remember the first girl to come out at my dance studio.  Before walking into class, my friend grabbed me in the dressing room and quickly told me, “Emma has a girlfriend!”  Emma was a close friend of ours. Before coming out, we would all regularly hang out with her between classes, but it became less frequent after the fact.  I would hear whispers in the dressing rooms of girls claiming they’re “not homophobic but…” I regret not reaching out to her, but as a middle schooler, I just wanted to fit in with everyone else.

Everything with Emma made me horrified to be open about my sexuality.  We were young and I feared that the idea of me liking girls would scare off my friends.  At dance, we wore little clothing and were constantly changing in front of each other. While I was never attracted to any of my friends, I knew that they wouldn’t view the situation in the same way.  

Even after coming out as bisexual in high school, I still didn’t bring it up at my studio.  Part of me knew that my friends were all educated and would accept me but another part of me was still the same scared eighth grader.  

   Romeo and Juliet ends with death and tragedy.  Luckily, I did not die from coming out to my dance studio...because I never did.  I will forever live with that initial fear that I had as a middle schooler.

Fourth Position

The fourth position, much like second position, is a weird transition position.  It is the wider version of a second position and a little limiting to the number of moves that you can do while in the position.  Though, fourth position makes a beautiful and stable stance for a pose.

I have often been told that I am a beautiful dancer by those outside of dance.  I used to brush it off as an empty compliment until I started dancing more outside of my studio.  I have always had a love for performing, so naturally I got involved with theatre during middle and highschool.  My main motivation was to branch out, to not be “the dancer” all of the time, to try something different. In ever show that I have ever done, I got cast as a dancer.  For years it bothered me. I felt like I was being pigeonholed in the role of a dancer.

It wasn’t until my sophomore year of highschool that I truly embraced my dancer roles.  I was going to less actual dance classes at that point, so the opportunity to dance on stage again was refreshing.  I realized that I was a talented dancer. The years of ballet have given me technique that set me apart from the others.  I was in a place where I finally felt good about my dancing abilities. As a dancer, it is so easy to feel overlooked and limited, but once you embrace your abilities, you can find a place where they are appreciated.

Ankle

The best year in my dance career was my freshman year of highschool.  A week or so prior to the start of the school year, I fell while skipping and sprained my ankle.  During that time, I was understandably unable to dance. It was almost as if my teachers forgot my actual dancing capabilities and just assumed that I was at the same skill level as everyone else.  I still attended all of my classes, sitting in the front and watching all of my peers work. This flipped a switch in me. All I wanted to do for the month that I was out was join my friends. I learned dances with them and would go home and memorize them since that was the best that I could do.  Watching classes, I was able to new elements of technique and style with my dancing. Seeing everyone dance made dance seem fun again.

When Nutcracker rolled around, I was not able to actually audition.  Since I would be fine in time for the shows, I still showed up to the auditions and just helped work the stereo.  I am very used to getting bad parts in the Nutcracker. Every year, I was embarrassed about at least one part that I had.  This year was different. Not being able to dance for the auditions, I got a better part than I would have if I danced.

Being unable to dance made me need to dance.  The break from dancing restored my passion and made me excited to be able to join my friends again.  Every year following, I considered spraining my ankle again.

Fifth Position

Next to the first position, the fifth position is the most important position in dance.  This small position has the ability to look so beautiful when done correctly. It adds flair to an otherwise regular first position.  

For most of highschool, I had conflicting thoughts on whether or not to continue dance.  I knew that I was unhappy and overwhelmed with my current dance schedule. I decided to switch to a less ballet heavy schedule and focus more on contemporary dance.  It was in my contemporary classes that I felt like a beautiful dancer. The emotion put into each move was refreshing from the structured “big smiles” moves of ballet.  I connected with myself in new ways, putting myself into my dance.

In ballet, I was lacking emotion.  Anyone can do the moves, but great ballerinas can tell a store with a single plie.  From then on, I made an effort to express myself while dancing. If I went to class sad, I would leave happy, if I went to class happy, I would leave understanding my happiness.  Dance became an outlet for me, similar to painting or writing. My passion for dance was restored, reminding me who I have to dance for.

The beauty of the fifth position comes not from the position, but from the dancer.

In Memory of Princess Camp

As much as I hated to admit it, by highschool, I was ready to quit dance.  It was quickly becoming too much for me and it seemed as though I was in it for all the wrong reasons.  My main reason became my job. My studio offers a summer camp for 3-7 year olds. The camp is complete with ballet, arts and crafts, and princess themed theater games.  Working the camp was the highlight of my summer.

I was a counselor at princess camp for three summers.  Princess camp really had no impact to my dancer career except for the fact that it kept me at my studio.  I knew that quitting would mean losing that part of my life and losing my campers who I loved.

The girls at the camp respected me.  I was suddenly ‘Ms. Katy.’ I enjoyed every aspect of the camp, the girls weird stories, dress up, and even the bathroom trips where I worried if the girls would ever come out of the stall.  The time that I spent at princess camp was truly magical and enough to keep me in dance for a little longer.

Swan Lake

The ballet Swan Lake tells the story of a princess, Odette, who spends her days as a swan and is only reverted to human form at night.  This spell is only broken when Odette chooses to die, rather than live another day as a swan.

Ballet is known for being beautiful, but up close it can become quite the opposite.  Pointe causes blisters and bunions. In class, its regular for someone to go sit down because they realize that their foot is bleeding.  I have kicked my peers on several occasions. Not to mention, falling or mistepping in class often lead to injury.

Every dancer that I know has some regular injury from dance.  Two friends of mine have severe back problems, making them foam roll every day before class and sometimes just have to sit out.  I personally developed knee problems from dancing. My knee would lock up, making it uncomfortable in any position. I also have an extra bone in my foot, causing my foot to frequently cramp up during class.

Our teachers told us stories about problems that they deal with with age as a result of dance.

The aches and pains of ballet made for a beautiful product, but at the end of the day, the pain was not worth it.

Jazz

Ballet is bright

The lights had to be on so that we could be properly critiqued

Hands like this

Feet like that

We were watched and judged

Jazz is dim

The lights were off to create a calmer environment

Add personality to your hands

Its okay to do the feet different

In jazz class, I could dance

Sixth Position

The sixth position barely counts as a dance position.  It is almost exclusively used by male dancers or female dancers playing men.  In this position, the dancer stands with their legs together and their feet parallel.  This position is not usually included with the rest.

I felt like an outcast in my dance studio.  While I never changed studios, I didn’t feel included in my own studio.  The other girls were cliquey and I was not brave enough to try to hang out with them.  My teacher liked to preach about how she doesn’t play favorites. Unfortunately, that was not the case.  The favorites got special treatment and more opportunities to improve their dance skills. The rest of us had the potential to be just as talented, but without extra attention, it's hard to stay motivated and succeed.  If we weren’t in the select group of favorites, we were overlooked by most teachers. Just like the sixth position, I felt as though I barely counted as a dancer.

The Red Shoes

The Red Shoes ballet tells the story of a young woman who is forced to keep dancing while wearing cursed red pointe shoes.  The exhaustion from her inability to stop dancing eventually led to her death.

No one was forcing me into dance.  My parents were very open to the idea of me quitting and never tried to convince me otherwise.  Yet, I felt trapped. I felt like quitting would be betraying my family and friends. My parents put years and hundreds of dollars into my dance training and it felt wrong to throw it all away.  I missed parties and birthdays because of dance and if I quit, it would no longer have been worth missing.

The main reason why I couldn’t quit is because I didn’t want to disappoint myself.  I had dreams of being a famous dancer. Of having a huge ballet solo in front of a cheering audience.  Of having insane extensions and beautiful technique. If I quit, I would lose everything that I worked so hard for.  I would be killing my childhood dreams. I wanted to take off the red shoes, but I couldn’t.

A Dancer Walks into a Barre:Reverence

A dancer walks into a barre, unknowingly for the last time.

This year, I quit dance.  It was never my plan going into this year to quit.  I told myself, just like I had for every other year in dance, that this year would be different.  It wasn’t. I got busy with school and it became difficult for me to attend classes. Even on the days when I was free, I was too tired and would make up excuses for why I couldn’t go to class.  I didn’t have the motivation or time that I would need to succeed as a ballerina. I came to the harsh realization that it was time for me to quit.

I’m not proud of the way I left.  After missing a couple classes, I just never went back.  I knew that I going back would be the mature thing to do.  I could say goodbye to all of my teachers and thank them for the lessons, but I couldn’t do it.  I knew that if I went back, I wouldn’t be able to leave again.

I don’t regret my time as a dancer.  Even though it's only been a year, it feels like ages since I’ve been in a dance class.  I don’t let myself forget my past though. I react anytime I hear Nutcracker or any ballet music.  I find myself frequently standing in first position. My toes are always pointed. I find myself choreographing dances to any song.  These things will forever be ingrained in my body from ballet.

A lot of my stories paint ballet negatively when that is not completely the case.  There are so many small things that I miss from being in dance. I miss my teachers and the funny dances they would give us.  I miss my friends and hanging out in the dressing rooms. I miss getting food between rehearsals, going to Dash’s in our leotards and tights.  I miss sweating after a hard class, but feeling proud of myself.

I spent 14 out of 17 years of my life as a dancer.  Quitting this year has been difficult to come to terms with.  The worst is knowing that I’ll never be able to play all of the parts that I promised myself that I one day would.  It takes a lot to remind myself that I’m not a failure for quitting. I still find time to dance. Whether it is alone in my bedroom or in my school’s musical, I keep dance in my life.  Ever since that first class, I was and will always be, a dancer.