My Dancer Part 1
Waaaay back on my old blog, I wrote something about Camille and dance, her focus and love since she started at age 2. I’m bringing that post back here today and then tomorrow I’ll post an update on the current state of dance in our lives.
From 6/12/2008:
It’s the time of year again when we pull out the bobby pins and lip gloss and hustle to dance performances. It means that mama has been sewing costumes and searching for tights with no holes and finding ways to make $75 shoes comfortable for Camille’s growing feet on the last day of class.
Last night was her first of three recitals and I was as happy for her as always I am. I’m always caught off guard by the swell of my heart as I watch her from the backstage wings. To see her sparkling in the spotlights, feet flying and a smile on her face is… well, there isn’t an adequate word to describe the feeling. How I love this little growing up girl. But perhaps equally so, I love how much she openly enjoys herself.
During rehearsals and in the dressing room Camille talked and laughed with her friends. She’s very comfortable with her dance partners and I imagine that there must be some level of trust they place in each other when they are together in class. Learning wide open as they do comes with a vulnerability- everyone can see your mistakes and judge your progress, compare you to themselves. This group of eight has made an invisible pact to enjoy the process and not sweat the small stuff. As they gathered backstage, ready to go on before each of their numbers, they remained close and their excitement was everywhere- in their smiles, their giggles, their wiggling. And when they took the stage, they created a moment with their enthusiasm. Each girl was feeling the buzz their friendship and trust had created and they were having the time of their lives dancing for their family and friends. I was so happy for Camille.
Added to the excitement were Camille’s three best friends- our unschooling tribe. I told her where they were sitting and each time she came off stage she said she had looked for them but hadn’t seen them. Knowing her friends were there made the night so special for her, sharing something she loves with friends she loves. Happily they all joined us for ice cream afterwards and lots of running and spinning and laughing.
Supporting my daughter in her dancing requires effort. Getting fully attired to the dance studio for several lessons a week, entertaining the younger one while waiting, costume decisions, song choices, shoes that have been outgrown (and are hard to find because her abilities require shoes that are meant for older girls with bigger feet), wondering if she’s in the right class, trying not to think about the teaching job she’s already been offered when she turns fourteen in seven short years.
But mostly, I feel gratitude. My six year old daughter has immersed herself in a passion and has been blessed by friends, mentors and a variety of experiences. On her own terms.
In the tap world, the timestep (with several variations) is used a lot in cheorography. This step was developed to communicate with the musicians at early performances a century ago. A dancer appeared on stage and tapped out a rhythm to demonstrate the appropriate tempo for the song and upcoming dance. Setting the time for their steps. Historically, each dancer had their own unique style and could be identified by the rhythm of their sound. I think of this a lot when I think of Camille. How wonderful it is that she can set her own rhythm, her own time for her own steps. Rather than following the beat of music that has been selected for her, she can direct the music to suit her vision.
So when I stand in the wings and I hear her feet making that stomp-hop-step-fla-ap,-step- stomp sound and I see her light radiating to her friends onstage and out in the audience, I nearly cry. Her sounds are sharper than in the studio, clearer. I remember all of the work leading to that moment and am aware that each of those days were appreciated as Now and not preparation. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and.a… I am happy that my daughter can be full and not stuffed, a participant and not a follower, leading and not held in place. The lights are so bright. There is a dance for this girl to do and she’s choreographing it one timestep at a time. I’ve been chosen to be her dance partner if I am open to Camille’s unique style and all of the possible variations. Witness to a life freely lived, a passion pursued, trust and happiness on display. This is simply delightful. And we get to do it all over again tonight! With new dances!
