Dance Family

The title above may lead you to think I’m going to be sharing thoughts specific to my nuclear family, but I am actually going to venture into the topic in a more encompassing way for this post.

I’ve been thinking a lot about “dance family” over the past few, somewhat difficult, months – about how generous and supportive and caring it is. This has been evidenced for me personally through emails and texts, phone conversations and Zoom hangouts, comments and messages on Facebook and Instagram – each interaction reminding me that I am loved and that I have made a positive impact through my work in dance.

It has also been on display in a broader sense during the pandemic, with the plethora of online classes that teachers, dancers, and companies have made available because studios are closed; with streaming content being generously offered to a world where gathering for live performances is not currently safe; and with fundraisers such as this one organized by Misty Copeland featuring 32 ballerinas from around the world. It’s even being demonstrated through the creative pandemic-specific content being made that runs the gamut from moving to hysterically funny.

I was talking to my friend Cam last week about what it’s like running a ballet school. He works in marketing, and he picked the dance family motif out of our conversation in a very perceptive way, noting that it seems important from a couple of different perspectives in an endeavor such as a school: first, families with children are the primary clientele of a ballet school, the focus of initial messaging and marketing; and then the school itself BECOMES its own family, of students and teachers and parents. He was able to distill from our chat how important creating that sense of family is to me, although I never said those words specifically.

There are many variations to the saying that family isn’t necessarily about being related, but instead is about the people you love and who love you back. For me, this is most clearly illustrated by my three godsons, who ARE my kids – not in any biological or legal sense, but because I love them and have cared for them, and have chosen to be there for them, and they, in turn, for me. But it’s also illustrated by my dance family – of which the boys are also a part – made up of those students, parents, and colleagues whom I have worked with so closely that they too became people I loved, who loved me back.

The training process, the creative process, and the rehearsal process for dance are communal experiences – humans gathered in a space, working together on a project, unified in a common goal – and it’s this social aspect that I believe is the mechanism for the feeling of “family” that develops. There is laughter and there are frustrations. There are different personalities, different levels of understanding, and different approaches to the work. But bringing all that into a shared space and experience molds the group into a unit, a team…a family. I’ve seen it happen with a group of students in a ballet class, and I’ve seen it in performing companies at both the pre-professional and professional levels. I’ve also seen it in the ballet schools I’ve led – parents providing the opportunity for their children to experience dance, teachers nurturing and educating their students, and everyone coming together to celebrate their growth and accomplishments, in dance and beyond.

I attended the virtual commencement last week of Luke, a former student of mine. After high school he danced in the second companies of both Tulsa Ballet and Nashville Ballet, along with some modern companies, before deciding to pursue a BFA in Photography at Parsons School of Design in New York City. Luke was a speaker during the commencement, as a senior representative, and I was immensely proud of him as he spoke eloquently and confidently about the journey and obstacles he and his classmates overcame to finish their senior year in a way no one anticipated. Over the weekend, Luke texted me, thanking me for attending the commencement. During our conversation he mentioned that there was a silver lining in going virtual for the commencement, in that people who probably wouldn’t have been able to attend a normal ceremony in-person had been able to tune in to the livestream. He added “Everyone has played such an important role in me being here.” And though I have not been a part of his day-to-day life for nearly ten years, I knew this was his acknowledgment of my support and love, and a testament to the enduring bonds of our relationship, forged through dance.

Another of our dance family is Luke’s best friend, my former student Madeline, who also now lives in New York City and whom Luke was visiting when he made the decision to apply to Parsons. She was the one who instigated an Instagram “parade” for Luke last week – a “Gradstagram” – following his commencement, asking friends and family to post photos of Luke to help him celebrate…just as he was on hand to help her celebrate her wedding last year. But grand occasions aren’t the only ways these two support each other – they’ve also seen each other through headaches and heartaches, and all the silly dramas that life throws at each of us.

Because that’s what your family does – supports and celebrates you on occasions both grand and ordinary. Reminds you that you can overcome whatever obstacle might currently be in your path, even if it’s the loss of your job in an unprecedented pandemic. Tells you that you matter, and that you are loved.

To my entire dance family – thank you.