Penny Power

A student of mine, Sophia, gave this moniker to a mindset that she attributes to me. She described it to her mom, Teake, about a year ago in this way: Miss Penny can do anything, and she also believes her students can do anything, and if they keep working at it, they will get it. She also said that this phrase, Penny Power, gets her through many things in life.

When Teake first shared this story, my favorite aspect was that Sophia really felt, as a student, how much I do believe in my students. It also reminded me of a message I received several years ago from a former student of mine, Britton (now a mechanical engineer, wife, and mother). She relayed that she had taken a martial arts class, and afterwards the instructor asked her how much experience she had. When she mentioned that this was her first class, he was quite impressed. Britton told him “Well, I grew up dancing, and my ballet teacher always said Ballet dancers can do anything.” She went on to tell me that she just wanted to let me know that I was right.

I do believe that dedicated ballet training imparts an impressive array of tools with which to approach life, and not only in a kinesthetic, movement sense. There is the discipline gained from hard work and high expectations, and the poise and confidence necessary to perform at a high level in front of an audience. There is the interpersonal awareness and communication vital to working with others in preparing for performance, in addition to the problem-solving and improvisation skills gained when performances don’t go as rehearsed. And there is no discounting the ability to withstand intense physical (and emotional/mental) pain. These skill sets can all crossover for use in a multitude of situations that are not dance-related. Hence another of my common refrains: This isn’t just a ballet lesson, it’s a life lesson.

For me personally, beyond these skill sets, ballet has also always provided a meditation, an exercise in mindfulness. When I was a teen, my dad went through some extremely serious health issues over a period of three years that started with lung cancer and ended with him being paraplegic. I’m convinced that dancing saved me during that time. Ballet demands a great deal both physically and mentally, so I could lose myself in that intensely focused work and quiet the ever-present worry and stress. I found immense comfort in the ordered structure of class, and in the calm sanctity of the studio space…and I have found it over and over again since, when life has hit particularly hard.

Ballet itself has broken my heart a few times over the years, but even so, its rituals have never failed to bring me a measure of peace, whether engaging it as a dancer or a teacher. Because dance takes place in real time, its participants are forced to be present in the moment; for me that kind of focus on the “here and now” is very centering. It’s why I love being in the studio, whether it’s to teach or to create or to rehearse – it’s all about what’s happening right then, and other worries or pressures or sadnesses can take a backseat for a bit so that I can completely concentrate on the dancers in front of me. Then, I inevitably find that I have more energy for and understanding of those outside concerns when I return to them.

With everything going on right now, no job, and uncertainty about the future, I have been feeling stuck in Limbo (yes, with a capital L). This has been somewhat eased by the teaching I’ve been able to do online; it has played a very important role in my overall well-being over the past month. But last week grief and sadness hit me hard, and I just didn’t feel like doing much of anything, let alone try to develop plans for my post-COVID-19, post-Oklahoma City Ballet life. Normally I am not a wallower – probably because I’ve always had a studio to go to – but I was deep in it by the end of the week.

Then Sunday morning I got a notification that I was tagged in a Facebook post – Teake had shared Sophia’s Penny Power story again. When I re-read it, I cried (of course), and then I realized that I had been letting my personal power start to slip away from me. Where was my belief in myself, that same belief that I have in my students? If I can believe in their potential to be amazing and to change the world, surely I can trust in my own years of experience in handling tough situations, in surviving, in thriving.

Yes, things are unprecedented and weird, and who knows what the future holds, but if I keep working hard and trying, I will succeed in meeting the challenges of that future with love, humor, and grace. Because I have Penny Power.

May Penny Power – or better yet, insert your name here Power – get you through the tough moments in your life, too.