All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
My First Dance Class
My First Dance Class
I can’t remember everything from my very first dance class. I remember the building though. It was a bland colored brown building with one flood light over the basic white door. It looked like a vacant old building, but I was about to learn about the magic that went on inside.
Opening the door, lead my mom and me to the waiting room. On my immediate left there was a closet with everyone’s winter coats in it. The room was not very big at all. Against the back of the boring white walls was a big desk. I could see a little wicker basket on the corner of the desk. That is where people would put the payments. There were many adults with little girls on their laps sitting against the side wall. I had never seen any of the girls before. One girl was very loud; her hair was almost black. Another girl with blonde hair was sitting with her mom very quietly. After standing next to my mom for a few minutes I went to use the bathroom. It was right next to all the people sitting down in the chairs. I can still remember of the Softsoap with the little ocean creatures in it. Standing next to my mom, back out in the waiting room, I saw pictures of extravagant dancers doing arabesques, passes, and en Pointe. There was a door between the waiting room and the studio. Next to the door there was a little box full of old tap, ballet, and jazz shoes that did not belong to anyone. They were only there for other girls to borrow. I could hear the music through the thin wall between the studio and the waiting room. I was so excited to go in but nervous at the same time. I had my little black dance bag with the pink Pointe shoe on it. It was latched shut with Velcro. My mom opened it and helped me put my ballet shoes on. I was sick of waiting. I just wanted to go in.
The door finally opened. Six or seven older girls came out. I said “Bye mom! I love you”.
I walked in and saw me Aunt Wendy standing with my dance teacher Miss Colleen. Over in the corner on the same side as the door, was a big stereo. There were many CDs and other music over in the corner, too. There was another little girl with blonde hair sitting up front. She was allowed to watch her older sister during the dance class before us. The room had a plain white floor. It looked to me like tile, nut I don’t think it was. The opposite wall was a plain, snowy, white also with a door on my left side. The wall to my left had two windows, one on each end a little more than halfway up the wall. Also on the wall, there was a beautiful elegant brown bar that stretched all the way down the long wall. I was very excited but had no idea what to do with the bar. On the right wall there were six fat panels of full length mirrors. I was beside myself. I loved the mirrors!
Miss Colleen said “How about we all get in a circle.” I ran over and sat next to Aunt Wendy. Miss Colleen told us her name, and then she told the other girls Aunt Wendy’s name. I laughed because I thought it was funny when Miss Colleen told everyone to call her “Miss Wendy” instead of “Aunt Wendy”. We went around the circle and each girl told the others there name. The other girls’ names were Jenna, Lindsay, Emily, and Samantha.
After, Miss Colleen said, “Spread out in front of the mirror.” I can remember seeing my own little three year old reflection in the mirror. With my baby blue velvet leotard on and my pretty pink skirt I twirled around trying to be a ballerina. Then I saw Aunt Wendy. She was wearing her leotard too, but it was black. She wore dance shorts over it. I can remember looking at Aunt Wendy’s Pointe shoes, and thinking they were the most amazing things I had ever seen. With the beautiful pink ribbon laced up around her ankle and seeing how graceful Aunt Wendy looked with those shoes on, I wanted nothing more than to look exactly like her. Miss Colleen resumed her position in front of us and showed us how we should point our toes. After that we went over to the bar. I learned all about the bar, and Miss Colleen and Aunt Wendy taught us the positions. I can still see myself going over the positions again and again. Feet together, hands like a beach ball, I would tell myself. Put one foot in the middle of the other.
After we worked on our positions, Miss Colleen said that it was time for to go home. I was so disappointed that I had to leave but, I had such a good time. When Miss Colleen opened the door, I ran over to my mom.
She said, “Did you have fun?” and I told her that I couldn’t wait until my next dance class. It was true. When I had first come here it was just a plain old building with dirty white walls, a big old desk, and cheap soap from Wal-Mart. Now I could understand the brilliance of dancing and I would never forget my very first class.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.