Dancer for Life

     Today I went and watched Eva's Nutcracker recital. I honestly don't know what I love more; that feeling of excitement as you watch the choreographer lay out the steps eight beats at a time or the actual show where it all comes together. I felt a bit nostalgic too at watching the combination of the young ballet school girls, prim and proper with their hair in tight buns and pristine tights, working alongside the ballet core girls in their grubby ripped sweatshirts and baggy pants. In my day, your talent as a dancer was directly proportional to how disgusting your clothes were. And that seems to still be the case. We used to get our old tights and cut out the crotch to use as an undershirt with our leotards.We cut out the backs of our leotards and then cut holes in our shirts to show off the cuts we made in our leotards. We used actual trash bags as pants so we could sweat off five pounds in a rehearsal. It seems somebody cashed in on that idea and now sells fancy trash bags for $30. And where we used the Ugg style shoes over our pointe shoes, these girls have some form of arctic climbing shoe (shown below). Now the guys are in on it too. Here is what I call the Michael Jackson of feet look. One sock on, one sock off look. I can see now why my mother was constantly disgusted with me. If we looked like these girls, it looked like a homeless shelter had been infested with an extremely talented group of bums. And of course, with the hindsight I have now, I would have been happy to show off my body more back then, instead of being so self conscious about every single hair on my head. 

arctic footwear

MJ of feet. Look at how cute the young girls are

I love the split shot of busy class and girls chatting before class.

I make a very big effort each year NOT to force Eva into ballet. I put on my best poker face and ask her if she wants to continue or try something else. I hold my breath but she really seems to like it and I think she has a lot of potential. But I have to say that ballet is a lot different for her as it was for me. I went to a ballet company that was run by serious Cuban ballet dancers that were trained by serious Russian ballet dancers. I can't think of a teacher that didn't scream at us and carry a big stick to bang on the floor or hit us with. Not like a beating you would get in the hood. But a smack on your butt or belly to remind you to suck it in or push it down. I look at Eva's teachers, how they smile and hug the girls, and part of me is jealous I didn't have that but the other part is wondering if these kids can really learn in this Sesame Street environment.

I think every girl, whether it is two seconds in a tutu after Christmas, or for twenty two years in a company, has dreamed of dancing-of putting on the beautiful costume, the makeup and getting up on stage to perform for an audience. I see it in my daughter. She has the bug. What I wish for her and for all of us is more shelf life. Where do old dancers go to dance? 

I danced alongside Nuryev, Fernando Bujones, Edward Villela, The Kozlovs, Godunov when I was in the ballet company. And when I wasn't with them, I was dancing in a Cuban Folklore company, shaking what my mama gave me.   We traveled the country and out of the country. It was wonderful. But for me the dream had to end so I could grow up and be what I wanted to be more than a dancer. At least, that's what I told myself. My husband never saw me dance and the ongoing joke in our house is that every time he sees me trip or bump into something he says, "You must of been a great dancer." I think its weird he doesn't' know that "me". It was such a big part of making me who I am now. But again, every little girl's dream of being a dancer must end: whether at two or thirty two years old is the question. There may be some fun classes for adults who used to be dancers, like the one I did with my friend Natalie in New Orleans, but there is no curtain call or costumes in that one. But it sure was fun. So for now, I am happy to have my memories and love, love, love these moments at the ballet. 

Nuryev

Bujones

This was my Cuban Folklore days

My dad almost had a heart attack when I wore this at the Orange Bowl Parade

For all of the dancers who read this post. Keep dancing. I do it with my babies, in the shower and wherever the beat catches me. I've never looked back at my life and said, " Hey, I should of danced less." Fathers-dance with your daughters. They will always remember those moments. My first salsa dance was with my father and I can still remember what he smelled like. And now when I dance Salsa, I think about him and where I come from. Girls, dance with your friends. I have many fond memories of dancing alongside my besties as we rang in new year after new year. And mothers, teach your sons how to keep a beat. It can only help them land a future wife you may actually get along with. I have to go now. I feel like dancing with my daughter. Maybe I'll show her some of my fancy moves the old Russians passed down to me with their sticks. And I don't know how much longer I will have to do it.