First Day of Class

“Everyone is beautiful at the ballet. Every prince has got to have his swan. Yes, Everyone is beautiful at the ballet.”   Lyrics: “At The Ballet” from  A Chorus Line

New Beginnings and Big Dreams

A new dress, new shoes and a new bag…sounds like a party or Easter or the first day of school.  It’s the first day of class but not at school.  The first day of ballet classes in the fall semester is like many other first days.  Everything is fresh and new, and each student has a dream that probably involves a solo, a standing ovation and an armful of flowers. 

Yesterday I caught up with a new friend.  Her daughter will take her first ballet class this morning.  We laughed about buying the tiny leotard, tights and shoes.  Her daughter was very proud of her new clothing, and had been watching the big girls in the window of the dance studio for months.  Now it’s her turn.  I could tell this little girl envisions herself in a tutu with a sparkly headpiece. 

My first stop of the morning was to drop my daughter off for her private ballet lesson.  I visited with one of the dance instructors while the first young girl arrived with her mother for her very first class.  Her leotard and shoes were pink, and she wore a sweater because it was just a little cooler this morning.  She held a precious stuffed animal and was a little shy.  The connection between the instructor and young dancer was made.  Another dream took flight.  I departed and navigated a parking lot filling with pastel leotards and smiles.

My trip home took me past the studio where my daughter began her lessons at age 3.  The joke has always been finding a parking place, and I saw the best spot was open.  We call it the “platinum” spot, and for years I’d have bought the right to park there every evening.  I turned in and watched another group of dancers and parents experience the first day of dance class.  There were a hugs from the instructors there as they collected email addresses and got started with their classes.  More big dreams…

My daughter is older.  The leotards are black or bright colors and the style is a little edgier.  Two elastics crisscross the instep of her ballet slippers now instead of a single strap.  She has a full array of pointe shoes from brand new to “dead”.  She does her own hair and make-up, and packs her dance bag each night for the next day.  The last two summers have been consumed by ballet intensives in communities far from our home in Charlotte, NC.  Her dreams are the same, but they are becoming realities.  Some of these will be wonderful – others may be tougher.

On this day though…the first day of ballet class of the fall semester…all dreams are possibilities.