Time To Quit

I was in ballet as far back as I can remember, though I never had a passion for dancing. For a lot of years I danced for one reason: the costumes. Now, why I didn’t  just buy ballet costumes and save myself the trouble of dancing for years and years and years, since I didn’t really love it, I don’t know. It’s a little mind-boggling, thinking back on it. Maybe costumes were harder to come by back then? I kind of think they were. I mean, most people made their halloween costumes when I was growing up. I only got a ballet costume once a year, for the final performance, and it was tragic when I got an ugly one. I always felt sorry for the girls who ended up with BROWN ballet costumes. Now that’s a real shame, isn’t it? Once I had to wear a seriously bad white costume. An awfully ugly white hat was part of it— a tight knit one that sort of looked like a sock. It had a sparkly styrofoam ball on top of it with long white scarves attached. Hard to picture, isn’t it? Just picture ugly and you’ve got it. One of the reasons I remember those hats so well is because my mom and I made them. Yep.

One day in class I was daydreaming (actually that was everyday) and my teacher called my name. She was very strict, and an excellent ballet teacher. She said, “Amy, do you really want to be a ballerina?” This is what she always asked when a student was not performing well. It was meant to check them up and straighten them out. I said, “No m’am.” “You don’t?!?” she asked. She was surprised because this was an advanced class and most of the girls in there were really serious about careers in ballet, whereas I had gotten into it only for the costumes until I’d been dancing for so long I’d forgotten quitting was still an option. “No, I don’t want to be a ballerina,” I said. I didn’t say it disrespectfully, just thoughtfully—like it was dawning on me that second—which it was. “Then what in the world are you doing in this class?” she said earnestly. “I just never quit and I ended up here,” I said. “Well what do you want to do instead of be a ballerina? Do you know?” she asked. “I think I want to be an artist”, I said. 

That was the last day I did ballet. I’m really glad my strict and excellent ballet teacher asked me that question. If she hadn’t, maybe I’d have never quit. But the costumes would have been great. For my next blog entry I think I’ll share with you a recurring nightmare I used to have about ballet, and then how, one night , the nightmare turned into the best dream I’ve ever had in my life. I painted a picture of it once. 

~Amy