32. Dancing

 

Dancing

The first time I heard music, I seemed to know instinctively what to do. I wanted to move. To merge my body with the rhythm and let the music express itself through me.

There was something blissful about matching my movements to the vibrations of sound. Dancing did not feel learned to me — it felt natural, almost unavoidable.

And I was never shy about it. Apparently, I was pretty good, because I received a lot of encouragement and attention.

“Go, girl! Go, girl!”

First Experiences

I began taking dance lessons when I was four years old at Ella May School of Dance in Tampa. I still remember my first recital. We were dressed in little tutus, waiting nervously backstage for our turn to perform. 

When the music started, we were gently pushed out onto the stage. I do not remember actually dancing. I mostly remember walking out, looking around at the audience, and feeling slightly embarrassed. But because we were so little, I suppose we were adorable, and the audience clapped enthusiastically anyway.

When my family moved to Brooksville, one of Ella May’s dance instructors traveled there on Saturdays to teach classes, and I continued dancing. I loved it.

Recitals

Recitals became my favorite part. We would get dressed in beautiful costumes and perform the dances we had worked so hard to learn. As we got older, we moved from group numbers into smaller performances and eventually solos.

Before going on stage, I would always feel nervous. But the moment the music began, something changed. I would lose myself completely in the rhythm, the movement, and the dance itself. The nervousness disappeared, and my body simply knew what to do.

Dancing made me feel alive, expressive, and free.

Social Dancing

As I grew older, though, my attention gradually shifted toward boys, and my enthusiasm for spending Saturdays in dance classes faded. Boys were also one of the reasons I eventually lost interest in returning to Skyland Camp as I got older.

But dancing itself never left me.

I learned slow dancing, fast dancing, party dancing — and throughout my entire life, music has continued to move me.

Even now, I exercise to music at least once or twice a day.

The impulse is still there. When I hear music, my body still wants to answer it.

Poem

Before I understood words deeply,

I understood rhythm.

Music entered me

and my body replied.

Stage lights,

costumes,

nervous waiting backstage,

then suddenly—

the music begins

and everything disappears except movement.

All my life,

dancing has been joy made visible.