Dance Dance Dance

At age four my parents began to give me dancing lessons. I loved it from the beginning. My mother encouraged me, worked with me, made me look adorable and was my biggest supporter. I must have had some talent because I quickly moved into classes with older girls and seemed to be front and center all the time. I could begin any routine on either foot so my mom tied a ribbon on my wrist to remind me which foot to start with. Since I was in the envied front row center position, other children would follow my lead and I could really mess things up in performances. The ribbon was a good solution.
I took lessons from Barbara Church in a storefront studio on the main street in Burley, Idaho. Before that it was in a basement somewhere in the neighborhood. As I said, I loved it. I learned tap dancing, ballet and acrobatics. I was given solos in the performances along with the group dances. I felt pretty special. Mother would take me to perform for clubs and “old folks homes” with groups or by myself. It must have been fun for her; it was certainly fun for me.
I remember getting a lot of attention after one acrobatic solo at our dance recital at the end of the year. I had a sparkly, gold costume with orange accents. My solo began with a front walk over and the strap which held up the top broke. I continued the routine holding up the top when necessary and afterward was the talk of all the grownups because of my professional stage presence. It must have been a big deal to them and it made me feel special to have all that attention.
We moved to Idaho Falls when I was beginning third grade. I continued my dance lessons with instruction from the Sisters Watson. I took ballet only. I was a better than average student for them. I performed solos at the year end recitals. At school, my friends and I were always discussing which was the better of the two dance schools in town. I was sure it was the Sisters Watson. I went to class in town on Saturday mornings for my lessons. It seemed to me that Mom had lost interest in my dancing. She didn’t come to class with me as she had done in Burley. She was working full time and Dad was traveling constantly. We didn’t have much money and I’m sure there was a lot of stress in her life. When I wanted to stop my lessons there was no encouragement from her for me to continue. If I wanted to start up again Mom seemed to find a way for me to do that. She had my baby sister to care for plus a million other things to occupy her on Saturday mornings.
When we moved to Salt Lake City in my eighth grade year there was definitely no money for dance. I always felt like a dancer but as I performed in high school assemblies and shows, it was obvious that I lacked training. The girls I danced with had been taking lessons at the University of Utah all their lives. They encouraged me but I felt like a dud in comparison. They all knew the same combinations and put them together with ease. I struggled until I got it.
At one point, I was able to take ballet from a former dancer/teacher from the U of U by the name of Gordon Paxman. He was a wonderful dancer who started dancing in his twenties and became a principal dancer in the forerunner of Ballet West. I was pretty excited. I thought he was awesome. I went to his studio and found myself behind, of course. In my second or third class with him we were doing some combinations across the floor in pairs. He called my partner and me “the gruesome twosome”. That comment destroyed me and I never went back.
When I met David I learned that he was a wonderful ballroom dancer. He went to dances several times a week. He loved it. He patiently taught me to be a worthy partner. I say patiently because I became so nervous about not being able to follow him that I was tense and then couldn’t follow him! It took me a long time to be comfortable and confident. He has always teased that he was a “snappy dresser and a good dancer”. In reality, both are true.

I love that my girls and granddaughters are able to take dance lessons. They have wonderful opportunities and they make the best of them. What a blessing it is. Dance is like the beating of one's heart. It makes you live. All my life I have loved the free expression of dance. Dancing allows ones entire body to be involved in communication. To the viewer it may be beautiful, comical, provoking, entertaining, spiritual, but to the dancer it is complete expression from the whole being. My guess is that other artistic people feel similarly about their art, but my soul loves the dance.