Pour l'amour de la danse

At the age of 15, I found myself surrounded by a sea of tutus, leotards, magic scarves and ballet slippers; not as as a ballerina, but as a ballet teacher. Little girls ages three to nine screamed, “Miss. Lauren,” Saturday mornings from 9:00 until 1:00. Each 9:00 class started off with the thundering of three-year old feet, which sounded like a herd of brutish football players, but they were actually in a race to see who could sit in my lap first. I loved those moments. The fact that these little girls were in a race for my affection really made me feel appreciated and loved. Their hilarious stories about school and their friends during role call made getting up at 8:00 and driving about half an hour to the studio bearable.

Being a dance teacher was a fantastic job. I was able to interact with kids, whom I love. Staying fit wasn’t a problem because chasing 17 three-year olds around the room can be quite the workout. But, the thing I loved most about the job was the ability to see young potential and help foster that talent until they reached the age of ten, when they were taught by the owners of the studio. It was so hard not to pay special attention to these potential prima ballerinas, but there was one girl who reminded me so much of myself. I became enthralled with the way she glided across the floor with the grace of a professional. She would close her eyes and really “feel” the music while she was dancing. I worked with her until the turning point where her talent was handed over to the owners of the studio. I recently found out that the little girl, who is now a teenager, has been accepted to the Royal Winnipeg Ballet School, my old stomping grounds, and it makes me proud to know that I had the pleasure of helping to foster her talent.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t always rainbows and magic scarves, it was disheartening when I had to discipline the girls if they were misbehaving. Luckily, I didn’t have to reprimand them too often because they knew if they were good, we’d play a game toward the end of the class. Another not so fun aspect of the job was having to clean up the mess of a little girl who didn’t make it to the washroom. There was also the issue of dealing with parents who didn’t understand why their child wasn’t doing grande jetes and pirouettes across the room in their creative movement class. It’s because like anything, you have to start from the beginning and learn the basics to be able to handle the more advanced moves.   

Above all, the little girls that I worked with along the way taught me so much about myself. They taught me that patience is most definitely a virtue and I’m still working on that. It takes a lot of patience to get those 17 three-year olds to remember a two-minute choreographed dance for their yearend recital. They taught me to laugh at myself and loosen up when on the dance floor. For so long I was caught up in the serious world of competitive dance and having bruised legs from teachers twisting my thighs so I would turn them out more. They reminded me that I did all this for the love of dance, which is what I now have tattooed on my neck to remember my days as a dancer and a dance teacher – the days I’ll treasure forever.

Who am I? Let me tell you.

Who are you? The age old question that follows us thorough-out our lives, but seems to be most prevalent during our young adult years when we’re “discovering ourselves”. I truly believe that each and every day I discover something new about myself that I can add to my list of what makes me, me. Maybe this is because I’m in my young adult years and the value of learning about myself will taper off as I age, or maybe it’s because you never stop challenging and discovering who you are.

So far, in my twenty one years of experience, I can say that I am confident and observant. My confidence level has lead me to become a leader, which can mean many different things to people, but I believe that being a leader means being a role model or even a trendsetter. I’ve always been a take-charge kind of person and my earliest memory of this dates back to the age of six. I went to a private school, so my creativity in fashion was limited due to the fact that everyone wore the same navy cardigan, tunic, white blouse and black shoes. My only outlet of creative expression was my hair. To combat the conformity, I put measuring spoons on my headband. The next day, two other girls came into the classroom with measuring spoons on their headbands – much to the chagrin of their Mothers. This was when I realized that I was an influencer and a trendsetter and I liked that feeling. In between those 15 years, I’ve honed my leadership skills and my confidence in myself and my abilities has grown.     

My growth and confidence has a great deal to do with the lessons my parents have taught me. As the daughter of two psychologists, I didn’t have a “normal” upbringing. I don’t think many kids knew their personality letters by age eight or what the terms extravert or introvert mean. Being aware of myself at such a young age allowed me to become aware of other people. This doesn’t just mean reading into and picking up on verbal and non-verbal clues, it means seeing and understanding the rationale behind why people do what they do and say what they say. No, I’m not a mind reader and don’t have any kind of sixth sense, but what I do have is an understanding of people. On many occasions, I have picked up on the feelings of my friends that they’re not expressing based on their language choice and tone when telling a story. When I share these observations with them, they often say, “How did you know that?” or “I have never thought about it that way, but you’re right”. This ability has allowed me to build strong relationships in both my personal and professional life, which is something that is extremely important to me.  

As I continue down the path of my personal discovery, I am sure that my confidence level and ability to observe and understand people will grow. I will have many more encounters and life lessons that will teach me how to best use these talents that help make me, me. 

Like a fish out of water...

I've never had a blog before and I've never kept a journal, so I'm like a fish out of water here. The extent of my thought sharing extends to my face-to-face conversations and my Facebook status updates, which usually consists of the culinary delight I'm making for supper and what wine will accompany it. This will be another one of those 'out of my comfort zone' challenges, so bear with me.