Grand Jete

My dance universe has gone a bit topsy-turvy in the last couple months, and it's left me with a lot to think on.

A couple months ago, the intermediate/advanced ballet teacher subbed one of my beginner classes.  She's an amazing teacher and had subbed for us in the past.  I was pretty giddy when Ms. Susan said that I should start joining her intermediate ballet class on Saturday mornings.  I'd been thinking about trying out the intermediate class for a while, but was always hesitant that I wouldn't be able to keep up.  With the teacher's invitation secured, it was definitely time to make the leap (the Grand Jete, if you will...).

I've taken about 4 or so intermediate classes now, and was pleasantly surprised that I can keep up with the majority of the barre work with no issues.  (Excluding frappes.  Seriously, frappes are the worst.)  I even manage some of the combinations in center with a modest amount of grace.  But man, sometimes the combinations are just absolute carnage.  

I was a bit disheartened the other day that for the first time since starting ballet, I woke up Saturday morning and didn't want to go to class.  I got myself up and dressed, and ended up having a pretty successful class, but it got me pondering a lot about my experience making the leap to intermediate, and how to psych myself up for this new challenge. 

1. Going from top of the class back to the bottom is hard.  

Although I wasn't "top of the class" for more than 6 months, its easy to get complacent there, and uncomfortable when you're back in a room with more advanced dancers again.

2. I'm starting to understand the frustration that returning dancers have when they say I should be able to do this.  I don't mean getting my leg up to my ear, or some ridiculous jump combo.  I mean successfully completing barre exercises, or remembering combos in center.  

3. Class is harder.  I know, I know: DUH!  But this ties in with #2.  There aren't suddenly any new steps at the barre, but the combinations are more complex, and they're FASTER.  My brain is saying "you've done this stuff for 3 years, why can't you do this?", but my body is telling me "hey man, I'm not used to moving/shifting my weight this fast".  It's frustrating when you cognitively know that you can, but your body can't deliver.  I just keep reminding myself it'll come with time.

4. The intermediate students are more serious, and a bit intimidating.  Don't get me wrong - the beginner class students took our classes seriously, but also knew we were there as a hobby and to have some fun as a community while we did it.  And the students in the intermediate class are very nice, and have been welcoming.  There's just a different vibe, and a less communal class experience.  Joining the beginner class for the first time, I felt like everyone was rooting for me, sneaking me little tips between exercises and stuff.  In the intermediate class, I worry that I'm getting in others' way or somehow disturbing the class 'feng shui" when I botch an exercise.

5. I'm getting in my own head, and need to have more confidence.  Again - don't get me wrong - no one has ever once said or done anything to give any indication that my presence in the intermediate class is not welcome.  Many of the ladies will smile at me between exercises, or share exhausted huffs for air.  

It's me - it's in my head.  In bald, frank honesty, I'm actually better than some of the intermediate students at some aspects of class.  In others, they completely wipe the floor with me.  The difference, I think, is in confidence.  I'm new, inconsistent, unpredictable, and always feel inferior in my new-ness.  They have the confidence of having danced for most of their lives.

6. I'm at a major disadvantage when it comes to combinations in center.  This one is huge, and only recently did I fully realize.  Learning dance as a kid, you usually take multiple forms of dance at the same time - ballet, jazz, tap, lyrical, etc.  And every year, you rehearse a piece in each class for the annual dance recital.  

I've never taken any other kind of dance class, and have danced one 6 minute performance in one adult recital.   I recorded the dance and practiced outside of class for weeks leading up to the recital to learn that 6 minute performance. 

I struggle with combinations because my body and my brain aren't trained to do them. 

Grand-er Jete?

Lately I've been thinking a lot about #6 - getting exposure to actually "dancing".  I love the technique work of ballet.  Frankly - I enjoy ballet because it's crisp, cold, technical, and mechanical.  I've never really been interested in other more flamboyant forms of dance with the sexy hip wiggling, the flirty smiles, the cheerleader-esque enthusiasm I associate with jazz and tap.  And I've generally found myself more perplexed by lyrical/contemporary dance than drawn to it.  But now I feel like exposure to some of these other styles will be key to helping me improve as a ballet student, and as a dancer, not just someone who does ballet.

Last weekend I had the privilege of seeing my neighbor dance in her senior recital, and it was a great experience.  Sara is an awesome kid - smart, snarky, sarcastic, and with a dark sense of humor.  We get along swimmingly.  Sara is also an amazing dancer.  A very intense, very dignified, beautiful dancer.  It's difficult to explain, but watching Sara gave me a glimpse of how dance can be a dignified endeavor.  You can do it without having to be "like, totally rah-rah!!!".

I have a lot of baggage left over from middle/high school with regard to dance teams and cheerleaders.  I need dance to be something different than those leftover resentments.  I need it to be different than Rah-Rah-Rah, spankies, and overly sexualized dances to Nelly at high school pep rallies.  I need it to be different than airhead Mean Girls flaunting too many inches of skin and making themselves feel better by putting everyone else down.  

I need dance to be something dignified, intellectual, and intense.  I think Sara showed me it's possible.  And I think I might almost be ready to give it a try.