Dancing Noras

Nora had her last dance lesson of the year today. It was her first year of dance, and I think she really enjoyed it. Dance is something of a holy ground in our house. Jenny was a dancer, and even majored in it for a while in college. We have opinions about dance around here... Dance is either art or it isn't dance, and Modern Dance is high art. I have grown to love dance, although, god forbid I actually ever attempt it. (please remove any pictures you might have of me in a leotard from your mind...)

I was nervous about today. Nora dances in a closed room without an option for parents to view the class. She is behind closed doors. I usually wait with Henry on the couch, or the hugely uncomfortable chair outside of the dance room. Henry does his math homework for the week, and I correct papers: Each to the sound of the Zumba class going on next to us. I can still hear Nora's class at times, but beyond that, it is a complete mystery.

I wanted Nora, and actually Henry too, to take dance. There truly is a grace that is imparted on a trained dancer. They walk differently than us mortals, and they generally end up pretty good looking too. I remember Jenny making sure that I knew that dancers (she was referring to the male kind she was dancing with at college) had the best bodies in the world. Yeah, that is true. So, I wanted Nora to have that in her corner as well. Trained body and mind.

I was very impressed with the presentation today. Nora takes dance at the Studio in the Pines here in Rutland. Marsh Warrington teaches there. Amazingly, there is no end of year dance recital. The year ends with the opportunity given for parents to view a typical class. I love this. While dance recitals have their place... I have sat through enough of them to realize that they are there to give the parents something to hang their hat on. I love that there is no recital at the Studio in the Pines. I love that the focus is on the process, not some glammed up end of the year presentation. Nora's class was intellectual, imaginative and involved some pretty complex body manipulation. Above all, it was really nurturing. They ended the class, as I assume they always do, with Marsha calmly speaking under her breath to all of these little girls, curled up like eggs in a nest, that they were special and important. And then they repeated it out loud, "I am special. I am so special."

db