Love At First Dance; Or, What Happens To A Dream Deferred

"What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat
Or crust and sugar over--
Like a syrupy sweet?

May it just sags
Like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?"
-"Harlem", Langston Hughes

With completing the opening night of my first professional show, The Who's TOMMY at ZACH Theatre, last night, I can't help but think back to all of the firsts I've had within my 20 years of dancing.

My first dance class: at a Children's World, featuring me in a pink fairy dress with wings.
My first dance performance: with Bettie Nelson's Dance Company, "Tappin' With Elmo" in some seriously sparkly suspenders.
My first musical: "Fiddler on the Roof" at the Vancouver School of Arts and Academics.
My first time choreographing: Michael Jackson's "Thriller" for CRHS' 2009 Halloween pep rally/game.
My first time taking myself seriously as a dancer: after spending 855 hours in BEL502A during my four years at the University of Texas.

And now, my first professional show.

From first competition team to first professional show! #transformationtuesday

And what a heck of a 20-year journey it's been, from my first dance class to this show. It's certainly the longest relationship I've been involved in and the most consuming. We've been through a lot together, dance and I. The successes, the hardships, and everything in between. But no matter what, it's always been there for me, and it was something I could always rely on to make me happy.

Dancing and performing was always more than dream for me, it was just a part of my identity. I was constantly singing and dancing around. There are home videos dating back to 1994 of me just performing "I Just Can't Wait To Be King" in full force. It was just so fun; I was definitely happiest when I was dancing. Then at some point I realized you could do it professionally, and the dream of dancing forever swelled even larger. I took tons of classes, joined dance companies, performed in shows, and loved everything about it. I had dappled in musical theater here and there, and loved imitating Fosse dance moves to the Chicago soundtrack in my room.

Performing the Russian Marzipan variation in The Nutcracker, 2004

Then, before I could even realize it, I was being thrust into socialization, where I learned things like all of the cool kids in middle school would like you more if you wore Hollister, and then I learned other things, like if you had even a hint of thick thighs or anything over a B cup, you might as well stop trying to be a dancer right now. (I had both). So, I quit. I gave up because I let others define my potential and decide my value as a performer. The dream popped.

I tried to find the happiness in other ways, like joining my high school dance team. Yes, it was fun, and at least I was able to still dance, but unlike the rest of the team, I was indifferent to the competitive nature of dance team. I didn't care about landing my barrel jump the exact same way as the other girls, nor if our formations were pleasing to the eye of any crazy judge we needed to impress. I wanted the artistry, the fun, I wanted to perform so I could tell a story.

Loud and proud dance team facials

As my senior year of high school began, my elementary school dance teacher, Ms. Bev Melum, passed away. She had been such an inspiration, and I often felt like she really believed in my potential to be a dancer. Her death hit me really hard, and I decided that I desperately wanted to be a dancer, and I was done with letting others discourage me.

So, I applied to NYU and headed to NYC to audition for the dance program. Friends had their youth groups pray for me, I received numerous good luck texts, and then: I didn't make it past the first round. Shit. I begrudgingly headed to UT as a math major, my dream once again downtrodden. After several tearful calls to Mama Fitz, I knew if I wanted to be happy, I had to transfer into the Theater and Dance department.

My first dance class at UT was Broadway Jazz II, with Natasha Davison, in BEL502A. The warm-up was energetic, the across-the-floor combos were dynamic, and the Broadway rep we learned was famous. It was FUN. Over the next four years, I spent 855 hours of dance classes and rehearsals in that very room. I gained valuable techniques and skills, I gained friends and mentors, and I gained the confidence that I could actually be a professional performer. The dream was now back in action, and I found the happiness again.

Last night, as I was putting on make-up, fixing my hair, and zipping my up my costume, a routine I am so familiar with, it felt different this time around. Because all of those successes, all of those hardships, all of the moments in between that I've shared with dance, helped me get to this opening night. I know that this show and every show after will be so fun, and I will be so happy.

The dream has become reality.

Opening Night!