Backstage tiny two year olds decked from head to toe in glitter and bows anxiously await their debut onstage. Four pink bunnies equipped with little white bunny ears and white bunny tails stare up in amazement at the ropes and the seemingly endless dark ceiling. They wiggle and scratch, tug on their costumes, and look up at me with questioning eyes, wondering if this is a safe place. As I pinch my nose and pretend that it makes a honking sound, they all giggle eagerly. One by one I pinch each of their little noses making a different sound every time and acting surprised. They are so entertained. “Did you bring your smiles?” I ask. One very serious bunny shakes her head, no. “Did you bring your giraffe?” The corners of her tiny lipstick covered lips lift for only a moment and then quickly find their ways back to a stern straight line. “Did you bring your elephant?” Bingo! A smile spreads across her face.
These are the moments people never see. Teachers on their knees backstage in the dark, trying anything and everything to quell the fears of tiny little people about to make a huge accomplishment: to stand on a big stage and dance in front of an audience. It’s something most adults would run from and for these young dancers it is one step in a series of milestones they will have that will teach them courage, determination, and help boost their confidence. And for us teachers, it is the best and most draining time of the year.
It is no small feat to get these tiny tots into a dance studio, much less to dance. From the first day they are unsure of their new environment, afraid of the smiling stranger looking down on them, and well, let’s not forget that they don’t call it the terrible twos for nothing. Their parents are afraid too. Their heads are filled with questions. Will little Suzy dance? Why is she the only one not dancing? Why is she crying? Is she okay? Is this a silly idea? Why am I paying for this class when she won’t even go in? It takes some children a few classes to even pass the threshold that separates the lobby from the dance studio, and a few more weeks to get them to actually move their bodies. Dancing (moving around joyously while music is on) comes naturally for most two-year-olds, but following a teacher’s instructions and movements in time with music is not easy and patience is the key ingredient. Every student is different with different needs. Some come bounding in joyously announcing “I’m here Miss Sarah!” And others take a while to warm up, but eventually, if given the right combination of patience, kindness, and fun, they all come around.
Once they get moving, you almost want them to stop. They jump up and down incessantly, eager to learn and so excited that they can hardly contain themselves. When told to stop, one dancer can opt to run away from her teacher, causing the others to run too, and in one moment it’s every teacher’s worst nightmare: anarchy of the two-year-olds. And so we chase them from one side of the class to the other. We work with them tirelessly and patiently, hoping that by the end of the year they will be ready to make it onstage.
What isn’t expected as a teacher, is that along the way we are invited into their families, their lives, and their hearts. It is vital as a teacher to know about big changes in the life of a dancer that may impact their behavior in class. Parents are the biggest source of information for any perplexed teacher and we turn to them several times throughout the year for their invaluable insight into the child and their life outside of dance class. Parents lean on us to. They start coming in to discuss concerns and we become a team. As the year wears on, we build a bond and a level of trust that is paramount to each dancers development. With every challenge, correction and bit of encouragement students understand that we are there to help. Hugs and smiles begin to accompany every class. Meanwhile, in the lobby, moms snatch an opportunity to chat together about all things mom. They too build a bond with one another and gradually, it progresses from a dance class, to a family.
And then it all comes down to two minutes worth of choreography. Teachers who have worked hard with their students all year frantically line them up and space them out on a darkened stage to put it all to the test. Did they learn their dance? It is the product of a year’s worth of hard work. We want them to dance their best, remember their moves, have fun in the process, and show that the year’s investment paid off.
The focus naturally shifts to the end result: the performance, but it is the tiny moments backstage and in the studio that count the most. It’s each conversation with a parent, each challenge a dancer faces, the tender moments like the one described above of which there seems to be an endless supply. It’s coming together to form a community that brings art and music and people together to work towards helping children develop discipline, confidence, and love. It is such a gift and a blessing and the best part is that when it’s all over, it starts again. Unlike school teachers, dance teachers have the ability to stay with their students year after year after year. It is a joy to be privy to such a special little world and I can not wait to see what the future holds for each one of those little bunnies.
Written by Sarah Garske
