A Season of Inspiration and Preparation

One of the first things I did after moving to New York was go to dance class. I almost didn't go. I almost left the studio the very first time I went there, too frightened to try dance class in New York as an adult... After all, it had been years since I'd taken dance classes regularly. I had a very little ballet when I was a small girl, a very little tap. Later, when I was an adult out in the working world, I took my first jazz class. With my sister Elena cheering me on, I even performed a jazz routine with a group of very classy ladies. And I found that I loved dance. I loved the way it helped my body feel streamlined and powerful. I loved how I could express myself through moving with a song. I loved how dancing just made me feel healthier. Every time I come to class now, I feel uncertainty... will I be able to handle what they throw at me? Will I remember every step? Will I make it to the end of class? What happens when they put me in a small group? I'll be more exposed-- should I safely stand in the back? The front feels more like a challenge-- more pressure, like people will be following me-- can I handle that? What if I lead them wrong? Is it wrong to stand on the front row, or is it right because it will help me learn faster? I see the dancers tonight near the teacher-- they're able to feel her movements and stay with her. I think back to a very wise teacher at Alvin Ailey, Iquail, who asked me to move up front so I'd learn faster. He felt that I could handle it. I can handle the front row. As long as the teacher wants to let me stay there, I can stay there. As long as I want to be there I can stay there.