By Shelley Bennett
With the end of the school year, sports seasons, and other activities comes the end of dance season. Dance season usually culminates in a recital or performance of some kind and we are so lucky to have ours back this year.
I am now an official Dance Mom and have been for almost 10 years. Just like me, Sofia started with ballet lessons at Joan’s Studio of Dance under the watchful eye of Joan (pronounced Jo-Ann). I’ll never forget that first recital year when Joan asked me if I could help at rehearsal that week.
I jumped at the chance and quickly became part of the backstage crew. I’m stage right and Andrea Singleton is stage left, in case you were wondering. We rely on Hilary, Camille, Jill, Julie, Sandy, and Amy to get the dancers onstage at the right times.
That year the theme was Cinderella and Sofia and her friends were lovely little fairies. Samantha Huskey was the perfect Cinderella and she had even procured a charming prince from Chester. I still get goosebumps when I think of watching from the wing as Sam stepped on the floor in her elegant blue and white tutu.
My favorite part, however, were the two stepsisters: Jillaine Singleton and Clara Holmes. They had the BEST stage presence and weren’t afraid to be ugly and over-the-top with their bent knees and floppy arms. Every time they took the stage, the audience’s laughter filled the auditorium.
As the years have passed, I have continued to be involved in the dance studio, helping with music, costumes, pictures, and even dancing for a few years. The friendships I have made with the dance teachers and other moms, with my mentor Joan and her dear husband Fred have brought me so much joy.
I have never watched a recital from the audience and I don’t know that I ever will. There is something about being a part of the show that is addicting. I get caught up in the entrances and exits, the quick changes between numbers, and remembering if there is a curtain or not.
It takes me back to my childhood when I huddled in the wings with my friends Andrea and Kirsten and hoped we didn’t forget our dance while remembering to smile. My favorite dance then was the Tarantella. We had puffy yellow skirts cinched with black sashes and carried tambourines embellished with ribbons.
We had to be careful to not shake our tambourines or we would get a sharp glance and a “shhh” from Mrs. Zuehlke. Maybe that’s why I like my position so much. It’s where Joan used to stand and run the curtain, always marking every routine in case you missed a step.
I don’t know what to expect this year. It’s a circus theme and instead of pastel skirts and fairy wings, Sofia brought home a black lace dress with a metallic purple underlay. I don’t have the luxury of watching the end of class when I pick up and I don’t even know the music she is dancing to. That’s what happens when you are the dance mom of a 15-year old.
I do know that I will show up at rehearsal next week and be greeted with smiles and hugs from Andrea and Hilary, that dance teachers Kayla, Jillaine, and Clara will amaze me with their creativity and that the many dancers will capture my heart with their love and dedication.
For me, dance is more than just dancing. It’s a love, a passion, a bond, a family that is carried from one generation to the next. Thank you to my teacher Joan for instilling this in me and allowing me to be a part of it for over 40 years. This one’s for you, Fred.
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