Honoring Commitments

Just two weeks ago, Belli, my avid 12-year-old ballerina hit a major bump in her ballet journey. I need to work through a bit of history to make light of what happened. So, thank you for your patience.

She has been taking classical ballet lessons since she was eight (a little late, in fact) and had fallen very much in love with the dance somewhere along the way. Since she started training for pointes she has had to attend 3-hour lessons, 3 times a week, so her life has been a precarious juggling act. Aside from ballet she takes violin lessons 2 times a week. She also is a member of the student council at school, which meets once a week, and of the school band, which practices once a week. She doesn't have down time and neither does she have a social life.

There are nights she gets home at 10 pm or a little after. After which, she eats dinner (you can't dance on a full stomach) while reviewing for a test or doing homework. We have discussed this matter of too-much-on-one's-plate time and time again but she refuses to let go of any one of those responsibilities. It is her choice and she must not do anything half-baked. This, she is aware of.

She has been doing an outstanding job, I must say. In fact, too heroic for someone as young as she is. But then again, I keep reminding myself, it is her choice, it is, therefore, okay, and that all these build character. So I let it be and I try to support/assist/encourage her in everything she tries to do. That it has not been easy is a gross understatement. So much so that just last week she hit her breaking point.

We were having dinner and, of a sudden, she broke into tears. "I'm quitting ballet. I don't have a life. I miss my friends. I never have time to just do nothing and hang out. I'm so tired." I was stunned/disappointed/relieved/empathetic/saddened all at the same time. I hugged her and let her cry and then, told her that, sure, she could do whatever she wanted, but that she had to think about it for two weeks and then come to a final decision. She agreed.

It hadn't even been a week when she came to me and said, "Mom, I'm not quitting ballet anymore. I love it too much and I've worked too hard. My classmates are my family." And so she continues to dance and she continues to manage a tough life. But don't all athletes, and artists, and everyone else who strive for something bigger than themselves?

She doesn't do it alone. The whole family goes through the journey with her. Vacations, occasions, commitments have had to be sacrificed in order for her not to miss class. But the biggest sacrifice comes from that 12-year-old body and mind that keeps proving just how much strength, and courage, and perseverance, and motivation lies inside it.

Here she is at their recent ballet showcase, doing what she loves best. Brava, Belli!

Pay Off

Belli finally got the promotion she has been working very hard for--ballet pointes! Teacher Toni has been training her since December last year, in preparation for pointes and she got her wish last Friday. She is over the moon. We went shopping for her first pair yesterday with Teacher Toni. People say that she is the only ballet teacher who makes herself available to every student shopping for pointes to help determine proper fit and make. She is truly a gem. She has instilled in her students a sense of discipline, a very defined work ethic, and most of all, a passion for dance. Hooray, Belli! Brava!

Pushing the Body

Belli has been dancing classical ballet for many years. It takes up much of her time. Ever since she got to middle school she has had to make a serious commitment to the dance because juggling her schedule has been challenging. She goes three times a week: Mondays, Fridays, and Saturdays for three to four hours each time. Too much for a 12-year-old, I think sometimes. But she loves it: the dance itself and her ballet family of extremely supportive classmates and and an excellent teacher and mentor. Her body looks for it; she doesn't feel good whenever she stops for extended periods in the summer. She cries each time we go out of town because it means missing her dance classes. It has been the bone of contention in the family because we have had to give way to her dancing. But this is how parental support is measured, I believe, when we have to have to make sacrifices as well.

Yesterday, she complained of pain in her legs (Belli never complains and when she does, I know it is at an advanced stage). I was worried because she had a class in the afternoon so I asked her if she wanted to call in sick. She said no; she was adamant. I questioned her decision, maybe even having said something like it was silly to dance in pain. She lectured me about pushing the body and discipline. It was like hearing myself talk four years ago. Didn't I give that very same speech to her when she was whining about having to go to ballet classes?

She wobbled when she walked and had trouble stretching her legs. I was in the brink of pulling rank and demanding her to stay home but that familiar inner voice whispered that I shouldn't. So I didn't. But I went with her to class and sat there for the entire three hours to make sure she was okay. And she was. She danced like her life depended on it, through the pain and the discomfort. I saw her grimace every so often. She was sweating bullets and gulped down water as though she were in the desert. I kept quiet in my corner fighting the instinct to take her home and nurse her in bed.

In between routines she bantered with her classmates and giggled with them. Over what? I couldn't hear. They egged each other on the floor and clapped for well-executed steps. They were a happy supportive bunch. But more than that they were hard workers, athletes all, who pushed their bodies to the edge, falling and tripping and pushing some more.

At the end of the three hours, they were spent but still smiling. I thought to myself, how could they do all this? We all know the answer.