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CHAPTER 1
ASTER
The little ones are my favorite to teach. They’re all in leotards with soft, sheer skirts, and ballet shoes that are only made of hope and fun instead of technique and expectations. They’re here, in my dance studio, because they want to dance.
Sure, I teach them all the positions and there are steps they need to memorize and practice, but the foundation is joy instead of posture and arm positioning. If they stick with it, those things will come later. I can only hope the foundation they get now, when they’re young, will give them something to hold onto and remember when things get tougher, and more is expected.
The girls, and a few boys, are all smiling around me. I don’t think they’ll ever know the light they bring into my life.
“That’s it, feel the rhythm of the music. Remember to find the steady beat,” I gently remind them as we tap our toes, stretch up to the sky and then wiggle.
Will our little routine win a competition? Nope. I’m more than okay with it.
These little ones, all between two and a half and four, will have a deeper understanding of rhythm, how to move their bodies, and better fine motor skill development. This isn’t about being a prima ballerina, although many of them might have those big dreams, this is just about loving dance.
They’re so pure and it brings a smile to my face. This class always does.
“Good,” I encourage them. “Stretch as high as you can, get those fingers in on it and reach for the stars.”
Emotion threatens to pull me down, but I push it away. Reaching for the stars sounds like a pretty package wrapped up in dreams and hope. For these little ones, that’s all it is. For me, it’s something different.
It’s deferred dreams and shattered hopes. I used my talent and my dreams, the ones fostered in classes just like this one at first and then honed through years of training and hard work, to reach for something big. Then I thought I knew best and believed I could achieve everything I saw in the bright lights of a fame filled future.
I was naïve.
But isn’t that what you’re supposed to be when you’re 18 with talent and drive? Maybe it’s because growing up in Sweetwater Valley sheltered me, but it’s not like I didn’t know the world could be cruel. I just didn’t think it would be cruel tome.
I thought I was above it because I had magic swirling around me when I danced.
I wasn’t above a damn thing. I was just like so many other young girls with big dreams. Then I was shown the gritty reality of what people will ask of you for even the smallest chance to make those dreams into a reality.
So much was stolen from me while I was chasing what I thought would be so easy for me. I don’t think I’ll ever get that innocence back. The worst part? It wasn’t even as bad as it could have been. Still, I came back to Sweetwater Valley with my tail between my legs and my eyes opened. I was a different person than I was when I left with rose colored glasses fixed over my wide eyes.
As the song ends, my students giggle when we all do an exaggerated wiggle move and fall to the ground. Being a little over the top dramatic never hurt anyone. At least not at their age.
When we stand and I look at the eager faces of the kids around me, I find myself smiling as well. They’ll never know how much they’ve healed me. I’m still not great around some adults, but the kids? I love being around them. They give me their trust and I give them the same in return.
“Circle up,” I round up the class and my heart soars as I take them all in. “Let’s stretch to finish the class.”
I take them through the cool down stretches we always finish with and remind them about how important it is to stretch at the beginning and end of our class. I remind them to drink water and be good to their bodies because they allow us to have such a fun time with each other.
The class for this age is about so much more than dance and I’m proud of it. I want every kid to appreciate their bodies, to fall in love with them, and to know how to take care of themselves.
The last stretch we do is completely silly as we shake our entire bodies from our heads to the tips of our fingers and all the way down to our wiggly little toes.
“Thank you for being amazing dancers today,” I chirp. “Enjoy your days until I see you again and remember that Christmas is in a few weeks. Santa and his elves are watching so you better be as good as you are here all the time.”
I catch the grateful looks from some of the parents who are patiently waiting. This class is always open for the parents to stay and watch. They can even participate if they want to, or if they’re talked into it by a cutthroat pintsized negotiator.
I have a few hours before my next class since this one really caters to little ones who aren’t in school and takes place during school hours. I make sure everything is cleaned up and the playlist is changed over for my afternoon class before I head out of my studio. I wrap my chunky cardigan around my body while locking the door behind me.
I head toward Sit & Sip because Lana has the best coffee and a little caffeine boost sounds like the perfect thing during my small break. I take a deep breath as I’m walking, glad to be here in Sweetwater Valley and not in New York City anymore.
Not only did most of my dreams die there, but it was too busy, noisy, and dirty. I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath there no matter how much I tried. Everything was about rushing and never about enjoying.
I might not see my name in lights in Sweetwater Valley and I’m not dancing in front of theaters full of people, but I have something real here. I have something I didn’t have to trade myself for.
I love my dance studio and being able to pass down my love of dance to others. I did get some amazing training while I was in New York and being able to bring it back to those who want to learn here is a blessing.
