My friend and colleague, Deborah Engerman, recently made a post in social media that really resonated with me. She said (edited):

“Occasionally, I hear my students say that in their hearts, they want to be a dancer, but they aren’t going to pursue it because dancers are ‘poor’ or don’t ‘make enough money’…Why do they feel so much pressure to make a certain amount of money, even at the age of 13 or 14 years? I worry they may be pressured by family or friends to be a certain kind of person and make a certain amount of money. Or that our society doesn’t value artists enough to pay them a stable living wage. Or that this dancer is afraid to live their real passion…”

I read this and thought: “She wrote this about me”.

So this is a note to all aspiring dancers and to their parents:

I believe that I was raised by wonderful parents who did their very best to nurture me and help me grow into a successful adult. But we are all products of our time and the hallmark of good parenting in the 1960’s and 1970’s was to produce an adult who could earn a stable living. Period. The concept of “following one’s dream” was thought to be ridiculous. And that was that. And I desperately wanted to be “good”. I desperately wanted to be loved. And I never wanted to be a disappointment (although sometimes I fear, that to a certain degree, I may have been). So without asking questions, without a second thought, I went to college, graduate school, and carved out a normal career. I didn’t understand that I had a choice. I was actually terrified of even uttering the words “I want to dance” out loud. There was a boy in my high school who was a student at SAB. He would tell me about his experiences there, and I would fantasize about what it might be like. But I knew that I would never really know.

And so I had my normal career, and my normal life, and it became my own personal prison.

But at the age of 25, I took my first dance class with the legendary Luigi. And if you are reading this, you pretty much know the rest. But starting at 25, even with the best teachers, certain doors would always be closed to me; by the time I was ready for a ballet company or Broadway show, I was too old to get that job (or so I thought) so in frustration, I simply gave up.

It takes a very particular kind of person to become a dancer. It takes someone who loves dance more than anything else; and I’m not talking about loving the idea of being a dancer on the stage. I’m talking about someone who can only be truly happy when they are honing their tendu or polishing their port de bras or checking their alignment in the mirror for the 50th time that day. Someone who doesn’t really care much about a beautiful home, or car, or clothes, or vacations. It takes a person who essentially derives their happiness from the doing of the work. And THAT is who I was. THAT is who I am. And Luigi unlocked that prison cell for me and led me into a world of which I never dreamed I could be a part.

Dance is an industry that requires a young strong body (or at least the part of the industry in which I was interested). So if you are THAT person; someone who is only happy when they are dancing, then some very important decisions need to be made at a very early age. And for the most part, these decisions do not include college, in the traditional sense. Perhaps you will have a brilliant dance career. And perhaps you will not. Because in life, and especially in the arts, there are no guarantees. But college will always be there (I know someone who started dental school at 36 and I know someone who started law school at 52). And at least, for as long as you stick with it, you get to live your life as a dancer. And even if you have limited commercial success, or none at all, You know that at least for a while you got to live your dream, and you know that you tried.

My teaching career started many years later. And I have been at it for more than a decade now. I routinely walk into the studio to teach an open class and find 40 dancers warming up at the barre, waiting for me to start class. Waiting for me. 40 dancers, in a room that holds 35. And still, after 14 years, I get a little lump in my throat because I can’t believe that this is my life. And even with all of the joy and all the satisfaction that teaching brings me, I still wonder what might have been if I had started as a child and pursued my career in my youth. When I started teaching at Joffrey, one of my colleagues was watching me demonstrate. At the end of the class, she said to me “wow, if you had only started when you were nine, there is no telling what you might have achieved “. And as flattering as that was, it was like tearing off a scab.

So if you are THAT person who can only find their happiness in dance, do not allow your world to lock you away in a life that brings you no joy. Because you do have choices. And as I have said so many times before, the pain of failure and disappointment is nothing compared to the pain of wondering what might have been.

“Never stop moving”, Luigi