Moving on From Pre-Professional Dance – And Why it’s Okay

Like hundreds of thousands of girls, I was put into ballet recreationally at age four. My mother danced in her youth, but quit by age ten, and she probably didn’t expect dance to be a significant part of my life. As I’ve grown older, dance has become a critical and influential part of me. By the age of 18, I was ready to audition for college programs and had my sights set on performing professionally. While I started training seriously pretty late in the game, and I knew I was nothing exceptional like Misty Copeland, I had the drive and work ethic and thought I was on the right track towards a performance career.

I started my training at the Spindle City Ballet School in Fall River, MA, and left to pursue training at Christine’s Academy of Dance three years later. As I grew older, I added multiple genres of dance such as jazz, tap, lyrical, hip-hop, and acrobatics to my mix of classes, and would perform each year in the June recital. I got my pointe shoes rather late, at the age of 14, and at the age of 15, I started to compete with the Christine’s Academy team. For a while, I was improving well in my classes, and I was pleased that my hard work would show whenever I hit the stage.

Having the “wrong” ballet body was constantly a struggle though. I have short limbs, I stopped growing taller at age 11, I have a large bust, and I have feet so flat that I call them my “duck feet.” The medication I’m on makes me retain weight, so no matter how much I try, I’ll never be as slim as most of the girls at the barre. Body image has definitely been a debilitating issue throughout my adolescence, but in dance, it fueled me. I might be short, but that meant I had to jump higher. I have flat feet, so my foot work had to be more precise. Throughout high school, I kept tacking on classes at Christine’s and attending masterclasses around Boston, as well as traveling around New England for competitions and conventions. I definitely became too obsessed. When I wasn’t in school or in the studio, I would be on YouTube, watching the latest YAGP stream, or a full-length recording of Svetlana Zakharova in Giselle or The Sleeping Beauty while my feet were stretching under furniture, or sitting in an over split with as many books as I could fit under my legs. Although I was training more hours each week, I had no knowledge of how to take care of my body.

The “no pain, no gain” mentality was definitely in my head until I pushed myself too far-resulting in a labral tear in my right hip. My physical therapist’s words were that I had “shredded” the muscle surrounding my hip, causing lots of scar tissue and strain. It became so bad that I had to take a whole year off of training. For 10 months I could only do specific exercises given to me by my physical therapists. I could barely walk from the car into a store. After my year of rehabilitation, I took a gap year after high school so that I could continue training at Christine’s for one more year before auditioning for colleges. I was accepted into a few great dance schools, but was not accepted into the program that I wanted; the dance program at Marymount Manhattan College. I was accepted academically, but I wasn’t eligible for the dance program.

I entered as a freshman with a dance minor and planned to audition again in the fall of that year for the program. There’s a big stigma about dance minors; a lot of people see them as lazy, sub-par, and illegitimate dancers. Upon meeting with the head of the dance department to talk about audition scheduling, she actually laughed when I told her I came in as a dance minor and wanted to perform professionally, because she really didn’t think that, as a minor, I was equipped. I tried to not let it get to me, and continued to focus on training in my college classes and at open classes at Ballet Academy East on the Upper East Side.

I auditioned for the program for a second time in November of that year. About halfway through ballet class, I stood front and center in front of the head of the department and raised my leg in a développé croisé devant, with my muscles twitching and shaking from the effort. I made eye contact with the department head, and I knew at that moment I wasn’t going to be getting in. I finished the class to the best of my ability that morning, and I wasn’t surprised that I did not make the cut.

This program isn’t for everyone, and I just wasn’t the right fit. I have since changed my major to Photography, with a minor in Dance and English World Literature. While I’m still pondering whether I should be an English major with a Photography minor or vice versa, being a Dance minor doesn’t bother me anymore. In the summer of 2017, I came close to winning a competition in New England for my pointe solo. Currently, I’m not nearly as fit or technically sound as I was then, I know that, and I’m ok with that. The idea of being the best isn’t in the back of my head anymore, because I know that I will never be the best, and that isn’t a bad thing.

There’s so much less pressure on me now, and I’ve been dancing because I love it and because I want to refine my technique. In the future, I might want to teach dance recreationally, be a freelance dance photographer, work in publishing, be an editor, or find a position as a photographer for a dance company. Right now, I’m working on my flexibility, which used to be one of my greatest strengths, but recently has been a great struggle for me. I’m a dog walker, and that has made my leg muscles incredibly tight lately. I know my left hip turns out more than my right, and I’m trying to get my right supporting leg as turned out and strong as my left. My arabesque used to be great but has definitely decreased in height, and my turns need some TLC. When I can, I also take classes at Ballet Academy East with my roommate (she also does it just for the love of it) but I’ve recently moved from the Midtown dorms to the Lower East Side dorms, so I’m looking for a low-cost downtown alternative. I have different goals in mind now. I haven’t given up on dance; I’ve changed my focus.

So, to all the soon-to-be high school graduates, to all those in their gap year, worrying that they’re growing old quickly (in dance world years), wasting time or stressed about getting into the right program: refocusing doesn’t make you a quitter. Moving on from pre-professional dance does not mean you’ve given up. I was surprised to find out how many dancers I follow on Instagram who have trained their whole life to get into a company, finally signed their first contract and then found that they hate it, and ended up going to school for something completely different. After all, the audience seats need to be filled too!

• dance
• growing up