It's a Dancer's World... Everyone Else Just Lives in It
The older I get and the more people I encounter in my everyday life, the more thankful I am to be part of a universal alliance of dancers. Dancers from all disciplines, regardless of their geographical location, are banded together unofficially by some kind of inherent language that non-dancers just don't understand. From jokes to fashion trends, dancers have a rhetoric that is unique and universal.
Having studied classical ballet for over fourteen years, I have taken classes all over the country with teachers from a wide variety of schools and methodologies. I have met dancers of all ages, levels, and disciplines. But no matter where or with whom I studied and performed, one thing always remained constant. We were all members of a world entirely our own - the dance world.
Using my observations from both my academic and my dance experiences, I have compiled a list of things that are understood only by members of the dance world. I don't mean to sound exclusionary, and I recognize that many non-dancers appreciate, respect, and identify with many aspects of the performing arts. Nonetheless, certain things belong just to us, to the dancers.
With a hint of humor and a splash of sentimentality, I present to you, members of the dance world, some of the things non-dancers will never comprehend.
Physical pain - Many non-dancers ask me time and time again, "How in the world do you tolerate the blisters, the bruises, and the injuries?" When I shrug it off and reply, "That's how much I love to dance," they often look at me as if I need my head examined. Well, pain is beauty, right?
À Our schedules - In high school, my non-dancer friends eventually stopped asking me to hang out with them on the weekends. While they respected my devotion to dance, they could not understand why in the world I would give up my sunny Saturday and Sunday afternoons as early as September to prance around with a bunch of bun-heads pretending to be snow flakes.
à The barre - For most college students that word refers to the pub around the corner, but for dancers that word is sacred. Many non-dancers wonder why we spend the first 30 minutes of class holding on to the wooden handrail, perfecting our plies and our tendus. For them, "square to the barre" is meaningless, but for us, it's a motto to live by.
Õ Leg-warmers - In the regular world leg-warmers were a fad that went out of style with shoulder pads and slap bracelets, but in the dance world they are a staple of the dancer wardrobe. Sometimes we pull them up to mid-thigh, sometimes they're multi-colored and striped, and sometimes we wear just one. The most important thing is that our most valuable assets, our legs, are being kept above room temperature.
ΠPointe shoes - They're loud, they're rock-hard, they're bright pink... and they go on our feet. We complain how much our toes hurt after a six hour rehearsal, yet we don't hesitate to lace the satin ribbons up our ankles the very next day. Others may not understand, but we don't care. We get the point.
œ Summer programs - We spend the months of January, February, and March attending summer program auditions for which we must have a flawless first arabesque picture and a flattering leotard that will make us stand out. We spend the month of April stressing over our acceptance/rejection letters, and we spend the entire summer tending to our technique. While the other kids are playing capture the flag at sleep-away camp, we're practicing classical variations at ballet boot-camp.
- Our nutritional concerns - Our bodies are our instruments and we must keep them tuned. When I was training pre-professionally, my non-dancer friends asked me why I always carried around a huge water bottle, why I opted to forego the dessert menu, and why I spent my free time doing Pilates exercises. I'm not surprised that non-dancers don't understand why we make so many sacrifices - most of them have never had to squeeze into a tutu.
-- The mirror obsession - It's a fact that dancers are obsessed with the mirror. Every day we spend hours peering into a massive looking glass that spans the entire width of the studio. Before long, we stop using it as a learning tool and start using it as a critiquing device. We have a love-hate relationship with the mirror, one that sometimes makes us smile and sometimes makes us cry. Non-dancers question how it's possible to have such a complex relationship with an inanimate object, but the only question we ask goes something like, "Mirror, mirror on the wall, whose extension is highest of all?"
Dancers are quirky, idiosyncratic, and sometimes downright crazy, but that's precisely what makes them so spectacular. Even though I have decided not to pursue a professional career, I feel I am forever a member of the dancer world and that makes me proud. Once a dancer, always a dancer... And I've certainly got the feet to prove it.