Most everyone following the family blog knows that M studies ballet. She’s been taking dance classes since she was three years old or so. She danced ballet exclusively for a couple years at Tigard’s Westside Dance Academy. Then, a year ago, we went looking for another dance school. There were some blog posts back at that time, too.
Last Fall, for a number of reasons, we chose to look around for 
M was accepted. Apparently, M was anything but intimidated. We enrolled her.
At first, SOBT was a bit of a step back for M. She started in the ‘First Steps’ class. She had class one day a week instead of the two she was accustomed to. The classes were very much back to the basics. No recitals. No performances.
We parents worried about this change, since M was already used to doing two performances a year, and when it came time for rectials, she was anchoring her dances. She even got to be the girl under Mother Ginger’s skirts one year. (see the video on the blog). M was very sage about this return to the beginning. Her take was that she’d spend a year in First Steps, then move up. To hear her explain it, it was worth it to learn at SOBT, because it was ‘real’ ballet; she could tell the difference. I Had to admire a 7 year old turning 8 for having such a mature view.
So, it was a quiet year of Saturday morning ballet class. C and M attended most of the OBT shows, just to study ballet as an art form and to get familiar with performance at that level. That was pretty much it.
Then, last June, when I was downtown for a Portland Business Journal event, I walked by the Performing Arts Center. The place was mobbed. Mobbed in such a familiar way. It was recital night for Westside Dance Academy. Girls and boys of all sizes and ages were everywhere, in costume, triumphant. I felt a pang of regret for M. The big night was going on, and she’d taken a year to restart. She didn’t get a chance to dance on stage this year.
I stopped for a few minutes to absorb the energy of a Westside recital night. A Mom and Dad had their little girl between them, holding hands, swinging her in the middle as they walked down the street. Somehow, I ended up in a conversation with them. I asked the little girl how the dance went, and shared that my eight year old daughter used to dance with Westside too. We talked about her teacher, and what song she danced to. The parents asked about my daughter, and I tried to exude humility when I shared that she now dances for the School of Oregon Ballet Theater. Their eyebrows snapped up in surprise, “Really?!? Wow!”
“Well, I attribute my daughter’s acceptance on the quality of the program you’re already involved in. Westside is a good place, good people, and a good program.”
The Dad said, “Well it looks like we made the right choice. Good luck to you and your daughter. You must be very proud.”
“Just as you are, I’m sure!” I smiled. Then they were off, swinging down the sidewalk. As I walked to my car, I didn’t feel quite so sure. The doubt snuck in. Did we really do the right thing for M? I hoped so.
Well, yesterday was promotion day at SOBT. M did indeed get promoted to Level 1. Just like she planned. She’ll be back to dancing two days a week (Tues and Thurs, after school). But that’s not all.
She’s been invited to audition for a role in The OBT Nutcracker. There’s no promise of a part; she’s just been asked to audition.
Nevertheless, this is the Nutcracker in Oregon during the holidays - the George Balanchine choreography as produced by Christopher Stowell.
M has danced on that same stage before – at summer recitals for Westside. But now she’ll at least have the chance to be considered for a few moments in the big one in Portland.
How could I possibly be more proud of her. Time will tell whether SOBT was the right choice for M. At this point, it sure seems like it.
Time for me to relax a little and enjoy the ride. I think. Can I get myself into that headspace?
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