“What are your earliest and fondest memories of dance?”
I have never been very good at dancing. Actually, I’ve never been very good at anything that requires coordination.
But that doesn’t stop me from trying.
When I was in second grade, I took ballet. I don’t remember much about what we actually did. I just remember classes being in the same building that my brother took karate in, and my teacher being the mother of a girl who went to the same church I went to.
What I do remember, though, is that I was the dancer at the front of the line, and I chickened out on the recital. I went to every practice, every rehearsal, and then when the day of the recital came, I just flat out refused to go. It was a Saturday. Sunny. I was in the backyard, and my brother was futilely trying to convince me to go. He tried to bribe me with some chicken, and strangely, not even chicken could convince me.
Being the outgoing, must-be-the-center-of-attention person that I am, that is the only time I can remember ever having debilitating, the-show-can’t-go-on stage fright. I have since be involved in many plays, concerts, and poetry/fiction readings. Some of the plays even included dancing (Spanish Panic, anyone?). Since attending college, I have taken two years of ballroom and even tried a peculiar thing called blues dancing.
I’m still pretty terrible, but you know, it doesn’t really bother me.