       The first time I thought about writing this article, I was angry. I came back to my dorm late one night and was ranting to my roommate about how one of the stage managers called me out for missing a cue. No one dropped the topic, and what she had said that day never left my mind, even today: “Hopefully this time I won’t have to yell at you again.” It really brought me down.
       Before I even decided to come to Winona I had an interest in joining Dancescape. While touring, a random student told me that it was a show put on by the university’s dance department, showcasing a bunch of different dances. I have always loved dancing, and when I learned about Dancescape, I knew immediately that I needed to be involved. I knew it was going to be a big commitment and investment of time, but I believed I was ready.
       This was the first year that I have ever done modern dance, and it was incredibly different than what I initially thought. It helped me improve as a dancer. It took up a lot of my time and sometimes it really sucked. I joined Society of Collegiate Journalists, the Winonan, and Her Campus during the process. I missed multiple events that went on during weekends because of intense rehearsals for Dancescape.
       Auditions were at the end of August, and the shows were last weekend. Originally I had made it into four dances, but one of the choreographers could no longer choreograph for the show, and from that point on I was in three pieces. All my dances practiced on Thursday. This was nice to some extent because it only took up one afternoon, but because it was three dances, I would be in the studio from 5 p.m to 9 p.m. It became not only physically draining, but also mentally and emotionally demanding. While I liked the dances, I didn’t know anyone in Dancescape and every time I said something, I felt ignored. Everything I added seemed to be irrelevant. I dragged myself to every practice. I felt trapped. I couldn’t leave and had to stay. Even if I could’ve, I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, especially the choreographers.
       Then that changed.
       The saying always comes up that it “gets better.” In this case, it really did.
       Tech week is the biggest bonding experience in theater. Throughout the week before the first show, the entire performance is run every night to perfect any last details. Every afternoon the entire cast would warm up together at 6 p.m. and after running the show, there would be a sit-down for feedback.
       Maybe it was how everyone was together on the same boat, or maybe more people besides me were excited for it all to end; either way I suddenly felt an opening environment of support. Before every rehearsal, the entire cast would join in a circle, hold hands, and fall together, running toward the center. Reading it like this may not represent how memorable that moment was, but I don’t think it’s something that anyone from the dance department could ever forget. I am a freshman, but I already know that these next three years will fly by faster than high school did.
       I met and became closer to people who, before tech week, I didn’t even know the names of. What meant a lot to me were the choreographers telling the meaning behind their pieces. Knowing the true meaning of the piece benefited the quality because it gave us energy that we didn’t know we had in us. I feel like I didn’t appreciate the pieces that I had gotten into, but now I don’t believe that I could have more gratitude than I already do for the entire process. It’s an experience like no other, and I highly recommend it.
       Dancescape was a great experience and I think I found a place for myself in Winona under an activity that makes me feel whole within itself: dance.
Before the very last show, I sat down with one of my choreographers, and she reminded us that the meaning of her piece we were in was finding hope. I think that night I felt the best about my performance in her dance because I realized after all this time that that was what I was trying to do in Dancescape. I realized that things don’t improve unless you have that tiny bit of hope inside, and one thing can make anything else turn around.
“Imagine: a vase breaking into a thousand pieces and trying to glue it all back together.”