“The Crowd”
A micro memoir by Brooke Barson (9).
My arms were wrapped around two sixteen-year-old girls, who towered over my tiny seven-year-old body. The whole studio stood in a giant circle, each dancer arm in arm, with their right foot pointed in the middle.
Mollie, my dance teacher, yelled out, ”Okay everyone 1, 2, 3, Heartbeat Hoo Ha Ha.” Everybody started to cheer and jump around me, excited for the dances they would soon perform. I stood there not realizing that I had just joined a community that would become the center of my life, what I revolved around, like the sun to the planets. Nerves filled my body, as the whole studio prepared for their dances. I looked around to see other girls my age confidently perform outstanding routines, while I stood there in utter fear.
My day had started at 5:00 in the morning, waking up to butterflies in my stomach, in anticipation of my first dance competition. I gingerly put on my dramatic, dark eyeshadow, fluffy fake eyelashes, and slicked back my hair into a tight bun. I had been practicing for this competition for a year, obsessively running the dance through my head, counting five, six, seven, eight, and marking the moves through my everyday routine. I arrived at the competition, entering into an enormous ballroom filled with hundreds of dancers, feeling like an ant amidst elephants. Music blared through the speakers, and colorful, flashing lights framed the stage. In the chaos, everywhere I looked, there was a studio leading their dancers in a guided stretch. I stumbled over jazz shoes and loose costumes, as I frantically tried to find my friends. Once I found my studio's meeting spot, the nerves started to kick in. The older girls in the studio all confidently strutted around, as if they were professionals, glaring yet giving us younger dancers advice on how to win the judges over with overly dramatic facial expressions.
They would say, “Always point your toes, smile big, and watch each other on stage to stay on time.” In my mind, these words belittled me. A new flood of anxiety overcame me, suddenly aware that they might be judging me too, thinking that I might not be good enough to be on the team. My heart pounded vigorously through my chest and a disturbing feeling arose in my stomach when I realized that not only would I have to perform in front of the crowd, but also to these intimidating teenagers. I tried calming myself down, knowing that my comforting and supportive parents would be in the crowd. Noticing my tense behavior, Mollie gathered the other three dancers in my routine and me for a helpful pep talk.
She said, “Just go out there and perform, it doesn’t matter how you place in the end, as long as you tried your best and had fun. I know you all have what it takes, so don’t let the crowd affect you, just imagine you are back in the studio, dancing in front of the big mirror.” These words of encouragement allowed me to muster up the little bit of courage I needed, as I stepped onto the ramp that would lead up on stage.
No matter how nervous I felt about the older girls watching me, their intent was never to intimidate me, just as my intent now as a teenager is to only uplift the younger dancers. All they wanted for me was to feel supported, since they too had gone through this exact experience at my age.
My teammates and I gave each other one last glance of encouragement before our dance was called on the loudspeaker, validating our enthusiasm for what was about to come.