I remember being ecstatic. My parents had troubled looks on their faces but there it was. The letter.
I had made it into one of them most prestigious summer ballet programs in the country.

Along with New York City Ballet (NYCB), American Ballet Theater (ABT) is one of the leading ballet companies in the US. If NYCB is the Harvard of the ballet world, ABT is the Yale. ABT itself conducts summer programs, or summer intensives as they are called, at five sites (listed according to the intensity of the program): New York, Michigan, Alabama, Texas, and California. Of course, the New York site was the most elite and the hardest to get into.

I disregarded the other acceptance letter I received that same day from Nutmeg Conservatory and focused in on the ABT letter. In my mind I was already picturing myself dancing in front of packed houses at Lincoln Center. I had gotten into my and the company's second choice: ABT Detroit Summer Intensive in Michigan, which was still a long way away from the New York site's prestige, but still pretty impressive to get into. Somehow I needed this confirmation from a place outside of my home ballet studio. Once you get too sheltered in one place you begin to wonder what credibility they can give you.

I arrived at the Wayne State University dorms, where we were being housed, excited beyond words and eager to learn. 'Hey,' I thought to myself, 'maybe that ballerina dream wasn't as far-fetched as I once thought it was.'

The first day of the program was used as placement day. And though I didn't do a spectacular class, I went out of the studios that day rather jubilant. I was in stark contrast with the rather haughty atmosphere that surrounded the girls around me. These were the rich, pampered, well-off, kids who had fake smiles and compliments for the teachers and would sooner backstab their 'best friends' to make it to the top. Loyalty was not a well-known attribute in these parts. I would imagine that it would have been a little friendlier in the Alabama, Texas, Cali sites where the competition is less fervent.

I seemed to make quite an impression on both the choreographers doing our workshop pieces for that session on the first day we met them, which was also the day they made their casting decisions. My prominence in the forefront of my level, however, was quickly extinguished as the program wore on. Though I still had my upbeat disposition, the classes grew heavier and all the more arduous for me. I struggled to just have a place in every class and my body became weary with fatigue. I had never before put myself through a program this intensive and I think I was overwhelmed both physically and mentally with the experiences. If I hadn't been too infatuated with just the thought of ABT I probably would have driven myself mad. There were times I struggled to find the inspiration to keep me going and had to persevere through exhaustion to give 110% everyday. I didn't say I succeeded in achieving that everyday but I sure tried.

The last week was the most hectic and tiring but that only heightened my elation. It was the week of run-throughs, dress rehearsals, and stagings and you could almost see the excitement in the air translate into the theater through the dancers. Despite having a mild fever at the beginning of that week and reworking my solo with a different pas de deux partner a few days before the performance because my original partner had gotten kicked out of the program three days before our performance date, I remained strong and optimistic. Whatever happened in those four weeks had no importance anymore. Or maybe they meant the world and would be the pinnacle of this experience that would culminate with two performances. Whatever it was that I decided on, I let it fill me and used it for my performance.

It was final day of the program, the performance day, and the day whizzed by until it slowed down just hours before the curtain went up. I always get excited before a performance. Excited and then suddenly nervous and nauseous for 20 minutes before the start of the performance. Then just the two seconds before I make my entrance the nauseating anxiousness evaporates and I am left with euphoria and exhilaration. It's something about the theater and the atmosphere and the blinding lights that when I step on the stage my mind becomes clear though at the same time hazy with the overflow of emotions in me. It's that feeling of being out of yourself. You don't think, you just do. You just dance.

Maybe it was the worst performance I had ever given, but at the moment all I could think of was the power that I had. Of the passion that consumed me. As if I were something bigger; as if I were someone who had the world at her feet. I was flying and all I could see were the stars above me. The world below had disappeared and there was no way of getting me back down for a while.

Throughout the course of the performance when I was on stage a thought came to me:

"Oh yeah... This is why I dance."

Labels: ballerina, ballet, dance, dreams, performance, summer intensive