on ballet

This blog was inspired by Pirouettes and Throwbacks, written by my dearest Courtney across the waters in Senegal.

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When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a dancer... and a teacher. Maybe a college professor.

When I was an adolescent girl, I wanted to be a ballerina. I knew it wasn't realistic - too thick, too much chest, not enough technique for my age. But nonetheless, I was captured by ballet's invariable beauty and virtuosity. After seeing a performance I'd always say, "I wanna do that! When I grow up, I'm gonna be a ballerina."

Once my mother made a comment: that most girls when they grow boobs or a butt just give up on dancing. But not me. I didn't give up.

Now I am grown up. And I am a dancer. And a teacher. And I do teach college students. Not quite a ballet dancer though. But three times a week, I stand at the barre dressed in leotard, tights, slippers and a ballet skirt. I take a deep breath in and when I begin to plie, I smile.

I am a ballerina.